Endurance
by Lyndotia
Summary: Sequel to Trust. Now that Lyn has finally admitted her feelings for Sam and Dean and Jordan are still as crazy as ever, life is about as good as it gets for hunters. But there are new trials coming to test the strength of both couples...
1. What Gandhi Really Meant

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: And the long-awaited sequel to (as in posted two days after the end of XD) Trust arrives!

Jordan: And, again, it's unnamed.

Me: I blame you.

Jordan: Evs! Anyway, everybody please review?

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**Chapter One – What Gandhi Really Meant**

"Okay, in the past week, seven women have vanished. One for each day. Their bodies are never found. This happens once a year, and it's been happening for 80 years."

Jordan sat at her computer doing research for a hunt. Dean was lying on one of the two king sized beds eating chili fries, Lyn was sitting on the other sharpening knives and cleaning guns, and Sam was sitting opposite Jordan with a stack of books piled next to him.

"Any of them known hunters?" Lyn asked, raising her eyebrows and brushing her hair behind her ear. "Hard to believe this could've gone on for nearly a century without someone catching on and trying to do something about it…"

"I don't recognize any of them, but I'll get the names out on my informant net and see if anybody recognizes any of the names."

Jordan started typing and Lyn ran a polishing cloth over the already gleaming blade of a throwing knife thoughtfully. 80 years was definitely too long for it to be any sort of human killer, not that it was very likely that any human could abduct that many women and not leave evidence, anyway.

"Any sort of common thread, or is it more or less random? You know, besides the fact that they're all _women_…"

"Umm… other than the pattern it's in and the fact that they're all women between the ages of 20 and 30, no. I just sent e-mails to some of my informants. I guess we'll know soon, but for now… I guess we have to wait."

Jordan sighed, got up from the chair, and flopped down on the bed next to Dean.

"Yeah, don't help me or anything," Lyn said, rolling her eyes. "You'll need all that practice in loafing around and eating chili fries when we're on hunts, you know. But having properly taken-care of weaponry? Nah… that'll _never_ come in handy."

"Shfut uhp," Jordan mumbled into the bed, then flipped over onto her back. "Researching takes a lot out of you… I feel like I have nothing left in me. I can't even move. I need fries to replenish my strength."

Jordan reached for Dean's fries but he pulled them away. "Nuh uh… I don't think so. These are mine. Get your own."

"Oh! So you'll share a bed with me but you won't give me chili fries!? That's nice, Dean… real nice…" Jordan rolled her eyes, got off the bed and flopped on the other bed, nearly crushing Lyn in the process.

"Are you out of your freaking mind, woman!?" Lyn demanded, shoving Jordan off her. "Or do you just have a death wish!? I mean, seriously! What part of 'newly sharpened knives' are you not comprehending?"

Jordan laughed hysterically for no reason.

"Is she drunk or something? High? Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs?" Dean asked Lyn while Jordan lay on the ground laughing.

Lyn shook her head and shrugged. "All of the above? Not like I know. I think, last I checked, it was called 'being Jordan.' She has a lot of talent at that. Like how she's currently stealing your chili fries while you're busy wondering if she's lost her mind."

"Are you -- JORDAN! Give me back my fries! I'm hungry!" Dean yelled.

"You're always hungry, Deano! I think you'll live if I have some fries… I'll get you more fries later. But I think you've learned a very special lesson today. Never underestimate Jordan. 'Kay? Good."

Jordan sat down on the bed next to Lyn, who tried not to grin.

"See, Dean, this is what you get for being a jerk and not sharing," Lyn said in mock disappointment. "It's like karma or something. Horde your chili fries and, some day, someone shall come along and steal them and horde them herself. It's totally what Gandhi and Malcolm X were really talking about."

Jordan laughed out loud. "Good one, Lyn."

Sam smirked into his book and looked over the top at Lyn.

Dean, however, was not pleased. He lay on the bed mourning the loss of his fries.

Lyn rolled her eyes. "You act like you lost your firstborn or something just now, man. It's quite scary that you value chili fries so highly."

She then switched her gaze to Sam and attempted not to smirk, too. "What? You gonna correct me with the popular view of Gandhi's message or something?"

Sam chuckled, still smirking, and answered, "Nope, I think you pretty much hit the nail on the head with that one."

"Those were good…" Jordan smiled.

Dean looked over at her, expression crestfallen.

Jordan looked over at him. "Aww…" She then went over to him and sat on his stomach.

"Oh, quit it with the smirking like a donkey eating saw briars," Lyn complained, throwing a pillow at Sam. "Either say something constructive or quit looking all conspiratory."

"Jeez, can't a guy be happy without getting his head chopped off?" Sam fake-sighed and then hung his head.

Jordan straddled Dean. She kept flicking his head, and he kept wincing every time, growing closer to snapping.

Lyn rolled her eyes and made a face at Sam. "Last I checked, that was a _pillow_ I threw at you, smart aleck, not a saw blade. But if you really want to be decapitated, I'm sure I could accomplish that with one of these knives… eventually." She finished speaking with a crooked grin and accentuated her point by twirling the blade she had just been polishing between her fingers.

Sam laughed. "Sure, I'd like to see you try… See, now why can't we be more like them?" He gestured over to Dean and Jordan, who were making out on the bed, then grimaced at the sight of his brother and friend, shuddered, and looked away.

"Because they creep me out," Lyn answered simply. "Hence the averting of my eyes. And I thought finding my cousin making out with my best friend was creepy." She shook her head and then smirked and added, "And I'd advise against telling me to try decapitating you. The last time someone told me he'd like to see me try to stab him, he got his wish."


	2. Something Out There

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Awesomeness happened when I posted this story. How so, you ask? Five minutes after it was posted, it already got a favorite story. I just find that awesome.

Jordan: Totally awesome. And two reviews! Keep leaving them, they keep us writing!

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**Chapter Two – Something Out There**

"Will you guys hurry it up? I'm getting a bad feeling about this… Something's here with us, and I'm not talking about the cute little forest critters…"

Jordan wrinkled her brow and gripped her shotgun and flashlight tighter in her hand.

"Yeah, yeah… we're going. Digging a hole in the ground deep enough to get a casket out of isn't as easy as it looks," Sam grumbled.

"Umm, I've done it before, Einstein," Jordan replied. "I know it's hard, but just hurry it up!"

"Both of you shut up before I either knock you both out with this shovel or start singing Gravedigger by Willie Nelson," Lyn growled. "Probably the latter, because otherwise I'd have to do the rest of the work by myself. Jeez, I am so freaking sick of digging up random retards who won't stay dead…"

"Amen to that… But seriously… please hurry up. I'm starting to get really freaked out."

Jordan looked around her and, catching a glimpse of something moving through the trees, pointed her shotgun towards the source of movement. "Uh… guys… did you see that?"

"Not unless by 'that' you mean 'dirt' or 'shovels,'" Lyn answered darkly. "Why? What do you see?"

"Something moved… over there… I'm sure it's just a deer or something," Jordan murmured, letting out a breath she'd been holding.

Sam and Lyn were halfway done with the digging when Jordan heard a twig crack behind her. She whirled around and aimed her shotgun.

"Probably should've figured out by now that it's never 'just a deer,'" Lyn murmured, eyes darting around suspiciously.

Jordan took a few steps toward the noise, her shotgun pointed at the trees. "What the – Whatever…"

She turned back around, but before she could take even half a step, something pulled her back and started dragging her into the woods. Twigs and holly leaves were digging into her skin and scratching her as something pulled her along by the hair.

"Don't just stand there like morons – screw the freaking shoveling, Jordan's in trouble!" Lyn yelled, darting after the beam of Jordan's flashlight with shotgun at the ready.

"Who the hell are you!? Let me go!" Jordan screamed and thrashed around, trying to get loose. "Ahgh --" She hit her head against something while being pulled and her vision went fuzzy at the edges before completely blacking out.

"Jordan! If you can hear me, scream! JORDAN!" Dean yelled as he ran in the direction she had been pulled.

"You guys see anything!?" Sam yelled to Lyn and Dean.

"Oh, great," Lyn murmured, kneeling on the ground with wide eyes. She could hear her heart hammering in her ears, and she tried to keep her voice under control as she called out, "Guys, her flashlight's over here – and there's blood on a rock!"

"Shit… SON OF A BITCH!" Dean yelled as he knelt next to Lyn.

Sam put his hand on Lyn's shoulder. "We'll find her…"

"But that's not the question, is it?" Lyn asked hoarsely. "It's what happens _when_ we find her." She paused and shook her head. "Jeez, I'm so blame useless…"

"You are _not_ useless… It just happened so fast," Sam said gently. "Come on, let's do research. I think the thing that took her might've been responsible for the disappearances in this town."

"It always does," Lyn said grimly, "but that doesn't change the fact that I just lost my sister to God only knows what, or that it's my freaking fault that she was out here in the first place."


	3. She's a What?

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this getting posted, only I haven't felt very well today... Probably just my allergies acting up... but anyway, chapter three!

Jordan: And don't forget to review!

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**Chapter Three – She's a What!?**

"Ungh… What the hell --"

Jordan woke up, her back aching and her head killing her. Opening her eyes, she gasped and her eyes widened as she remembered the events of last night and took in her current situation.

She was in a cage, surrounded by animals. _Wait… this is a cage… a big steel cage… and… AHHHHHHH! I'm a cat! What the crap!? How? When? WHY!? I can't be a cat!_

"Okay, we got everything?" Sam whispered as they got out of the car and went to the trunk.

"Sure as crap better," Lyn answered grimly as she hid a knife in the rolled-up leg of her jeans, "because I'm not leaving her behind again."

"Good…" Sam sighed. Lyn had been like this for the entire two days they had needed to find where Jordan was taken. It hadn't been easy, and with Lyn being extra grumpy when she spoke at all, it hadn't been pleasant, either. Though, on the bright side, neither Sam nor Dean would be complaining about her caffeine-withdrawal grumpiness for a while; that was nothing to the past two days. "Come on… be quiet."

They all walked down the road, into the little patch of wood, and across a huge, farm-like field. A small, beat-up house stood prominently about 30 feet away. They all crept up and looked in the windows, trying to see if they could just sneak in and grab Jordan. However, all they saw were dozens of animal cages, holding everything from lizards to tigers.

Lyn's brow furrowed. "The crap kind of insane moron… forget it, I don't even care," Lyn murmured. "Jordan's _here_? Anybody see her?"

A tiger looked up, a forlorn look plastered on its face. As soon as it saw the trio, it started pawing the cage and gnawing at the bars. When that was unsuccessful, it thrashed around, trying to get their attention.

"Dadburn it, Jordan," Lyn growled, fighting an impulse to hit the wall. "Where are you?" She then noticed the animal trying to escape its cage and frowned. "If that freaking critter doesn't stop making racket, we're not gonna stay undiscovered very long…"

Jordan whimpered and swiped her paw at the three, hopelessly. _They finally came and they're not even gonna know who I am! _She fixed Lyn with her trademark puppy-dog look. _God, Lyn! Recognize me! Please, God!_

"I don't see anything but animals in here," Lyn muttered with an exasperated sigh. "Why the crap are there so many of them, anyway? I mean, I realize none of these freaks are in their right minds, but… wait…" A crease appeared between her eyebrows and she murmured, "That looks like… but that's impossible…"

"Hey," Lyn said faintly, reaching to her left, where Dean was standing a couple of feet away, and tugging on the arm of his coat without averting her gaze from the window. "Lookit… that tiger, the one that was jumping around like a chicken with its head cut off a minute ago… Look at its eyes…"

_Oh, thank you, God! Oh, I'm so tackle hugging Lyn when I get out of here. Thank God I can read lips. _Jordan smiled, although in her current form, it most likely looked demented.

"What… Wait… I would know those eyes anywhere… Do you think…? Hey, Sammy… Come here… Look at the spastic tiger's eyes…" Dean whispered.

"Okay, what am I – hold on… Jordan? Is anyone else thinking what I'm thinking here?" Sam looked nervously at the other two.

"That has to be it," Lyn mused in a barely audible whisper, wide eyes still locked on the tiger's deep brown, gold-flecked ones. "That's why there are all these animals… They're not animals at all, they're the people who disappeared… Oh, jeez…"

"Come on… We gotta get in there… We have no idea why the hell this son of a bitch turned these people into animals, and we may not have much time until we find out," Dean said, his eyes full of anger, before he opened the window soundlessly and climbed through, Lyn right behind him.

"Yeah, I realize we should be moving quickly and being quiet and all," Lyn murmured with a raised eyebrow, "but shouldn't we… I dunno… make really sure it's not just a freaking tiger before we let it out of the cage?"

_Wait, WHAT?! Tiger?! I'm not a freaking tiger! I'm a domesta freaking housecat! You hear me!? -- Well, obviously, you can't… oh, this really sucks… everyone around me is going crazy and calling me thing I'm -- OH MY GOD I'M A TIGER! WHAT THE -- COOL! I love tigers! Sweet!_ Jordan looked up at the trio. She stood up on her hind legs, put her paws through the bars, and whimpered.

"Okay, so it can do the trademark puppy dog eyes," Lyn acquiesced. "Which is kind of weird, since it's a cat... But yeah. How exactly are we supposed to know for sure...? I mean, it would be some kind of irony if, after almost getting killed so many freaking times, the end was death by _tiger_..."

Jordan huffed and flopped herself down, hopeless. _Damn you, Lyn, you and your suspiciousness... They're never gonna let me out, and that stupid witch's gonna come back and harvest my body parts and eat them or something..._ A tear leaked from the corner of her eye.

"And now it's giving me the evil eye," Lyn observed, raising an eyebrow. "... And now it's crying. Can tigers even cry? ... Okay, this isn't fair. Now I feel guilty... JJ, I'm gonna kill you. Even when you're a freaking tiger, you can still lay guilt trips."

Jordan's ears perked up and she got up, filled with hope again. _Yes! Okay, now gotta get them to open the door..._ She got up on her haunches again and nudged her nose against the lock of the gate, then nodded her head towards Dean, Sam, and Lyn.

"Good point," Lyn murmured, tapping a finger against the side of her leg. "Yeah, no keys. But oh, well; who needs keys when you have..." She paused to fish something out of her pocket, flash a crooked grin, and finish, "a fingernail file?"

Lyn picked the lock and, after much hesitation, let the door fall open. Jordan grinned a toothy, fang-ridden grin and waltzed out of her confinement. _God, it's good to be out of here... OH SNAP... I gotta pee..._

Jordan jumped up on Lyn and whimpered, then nodded to the window.

"We're goin', we're goin'," Lyn assured her. "But jeez, JJ, you realize you don't weigh a hundred some-odd pounds any more, right? You puncture a lung with those claws and I'll set our cousins after you... And remember, that includes April and Carrie now..."

Jordan just growled low in her throat in response. _Oh Jesus, no..._ She wrinkled her brow and was about to go when she turned back to the other cages. Jordan nudged Lyn's leg and then towards the other cages.

"Wow... she's... a... tiger... a very beautiful tiger... but still... a tiger!?" Sam sputtered.

"Dude... did you just call my girlfriend beautiful!?" Dean turned towards Sam.

"Yes, I did..."

"Would you all just shut up now!?" Lyn hissed dangerously. "You realize we're still in the freaking building!? Does nobody left on the planet have a cotton-picking survival instinct any more!? Argue. Later. Jeez!"

She then turned back to the cages and bit her lip. "I dunno, Jordan... How are we supposed to get all of these cages open without getting caught? And, I mean... A python? An orangutan? Most of them are dangerous, and... well... JJ, what if it... takes a while to figure out how to change you back?"

Jordan looked up at Lyn with sad eyes. She knew that what Lyn said was true, but she felt bad, leaving these people to the same fate she was going to face. She huffed and turned toward the window; she nodded towards it and let out a mewling sound.

"So, let's get out of here, huh?" Dean started walking to the window, followed by Sam. Lyn sighed and trailed behind them, patting Jordan-the-tiger on the head.

"When we figure out how to stop it, maybe we can try, okay?"

Jordan nodded and jumped up on a crate then out the window, landing solidly on her feet, one of the advantages of being a cat. Jordan walked forward a few steps and turned around to see Dean, Sam, and Lyn already through the window and behind her. Jordan looked back toward the window, hung her head, made a sigh like sound, then started running toward the Impala.

Lyn gave Sam and Dean a sideways glance, gave a crooked grin, and said, "You know, there's a country song that goes 'You can't drive around with a tiger in your car'..."


	4. Misdemeanors and Felonies

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Yes, we're slow. Again. But though this could technically be blamed on me, it's not really my fault. I mean, I'm sick. I'm not incredibly fast at writing when I'm sick... especially since my medicine puts me to sleep and so I kept randomly falling asleep and then Jordan would call me and then --

Jordan: Apparently it also makes you ramble more than usual. Anyway, review!

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**Chapter Four – Misdemeanors and Felonies**

"You realize we're supposed to have… like… tons of papers and documents and stuff for this," Lyn said almost absentmindedly as she sat on one of the beds with her chin on her hand, watching Jordan-the-tiger devouring a plate of raw meat.

Sam shrugged from where he sat beside her and said, "Well, then forge them."

"Duh," Dean put in, shrugging, too.

Lyn looked at them both indignantly. "Why do I always have to do the forging and lock-picking and other random, usually illegal things?" she demanded.

"Uh… 'cause… you're better at it than us. You're the geek; I'm the smooth-talking, charisma-ridden one of the bunch," Dean said with a smirk.

"Dude, I already have convictions for aggravated battery and assault with a deadly weapon," Lyn complained. "Those are just misdemeanors. I don't need felonies on my record, too!"

Dean stopped dead in his tracks from where he had been pacing and gave her a look rather like he had just been informed that the moon was, in fact, made of green cheese. Even Sam gave her a surprised sort of sideways look. Lyn just rolled her eyes.

"Oh, come on – like _you've_ never stabbed anybody."

Jordan-the-tiger looked up from her plate, licked a spot of blood off her face, and suddenly charged forward and tackled Dean. He fell to the floor with the tiger on his chest and the wind knocked out of him.

Lyn chuckled. "See, Dean, that's what you get for being a hypocrite."

"And I have more charisma than you do, fool," Jordan growled.

Lyn promptly fell off the bed in shock and landed on the floor with a thud. She didn't bother getting up, just stared at Jordan and Dean and said slowly, "Holy… freaking… _crap_!"

"Hey, I just talked!" Jordan cried, wide-eyed. "Sweet! … I wonder what else I can do…?"

She twitched what might have been eyebrows if she were currently human at Dean and gave him an alluring sort of come-hither look.

"Okay, that is _so_ Creepsville that it's not even funny," Lyn said, pulling a face and finally getting up off of the floor. "And I grew up with _Jay_. I don't creep out easily. Freaking quit it, Jordan, seriously!"

Jordan got off of a stunned Dean and jumped around the hotel, knocking a lamp down in the process. "I CAN TALK! THIS IS AWESOME! You have NO idea how frustrating it is not to be able to talk. Ugh, I swear… I mean, being a tiger is awesome, but being a _talking _tiger!? That's awesomely awesome! YAY!"

"Whoa… my tiger girlfriend just jumped on me… tiger…" Dean stood up and sat on the bed, staring at Jordan.

"Lyn… you all good?" Sam asked, wrinkling his eyebrows and sitting down on the other bed next to Lyn.

"Define 'all good,'" Lyn muttered with a weak smile, trying to ignore the tiger wreaking havoc in the room at large.

Jordan pounced on Lyn and Sam, giggling foolishly. "Can I have some more meat?"

"Ugh… that was painful…" Sam was flat on his back, Lyn on her back on top of him, with Jordan sprawled over top both of them, pinning them both down.

"Not if you freaking kill us, Jordan," Lyn coughed out. "Seriously, extract your claws from my chest before I cut your paws off and don't worry about whether you'll have hands or not when we figure out how to change you back."

Jordan hung her head and got off them, then jumped up on Dean's bed. At first he hesitated, but then laid his hand on her head and scratched her head.

"That feels so awesomely good…" Jordan murmured, and leaned into Dean.

"Right," Lyn said with a sigh, sitting up straight and massaging her collar bone. "I should probably invest in kevlar or something until you figure out that you weigh several times what I do, now, Jordan. And _you_ should probably bear in mind that, if you kill us all, you'll probably wind up either starving to death or getting dissected in some lab somewhere when people find out you can talk…"

Jordan whimpered, "You won't let them take me, will you?" She looked to each of them.

"Oh, yes," Lyn said sarcastically. "That's the entire reason that we broke several state and federal laws to get you back from the whatever-the-crap that turned you into a tiger: so that we could sell you to a lab and make money. Makes perfect sense."

Jordan growled low in her throat and glared at her sister. "Fine… be sarcastic.. remember, I have several knives coming out of my hands… like Wolverine, and I can so hurt you… can I have more meat now?"

Dean rolled his eyes but had a smirk planted on his face. Sam laughed and pulled himself up. Lyn shook her head and retorted, "I know you can, idget. Even though you apparently don't care, you already made me freaking bleed and about crushed my collar bone. And yeah, right – I quake in fear, obviously. But at least now I won't have to keep reminding you not to waltz around unarmed. Maybe we should leave you a tiger, JJ; it might turn out a good thing, after all."

Jordan rolled her tiger eyes and lay down on the bed, her head in Dean's lap.

Dean absentmindedly stroked her head. "You know, what I wanna know is how come she couldn't talk when we first found her, but she can talk now?" He wrinkled his brow and thought for a second.

"Maybe she could but just didn't realize it?" Lyn guessed. "Or maybe the freaky menagerie caretaker is less yankee than y'all and knows about mother-in-law's tongue?"

"She injected us with this stuff every day. Never told us what it was… but always made my throat hurt… and after about 10 minutes after the first shot I couldn't talk. Probably what it was…" Jordan purred and licked Dean's hand.

Dean looked down at her. "It's weird having a tiger as a girlfriend…" He sighed.

"Well, obviously we have to figure out some way to change her back," Lyn said with a deep sigh, closing her eyes and resting her elbows on her knees and chin on her hands. "Urgh… I cannot think without caffeine, dadburn it…"

"Somebody get her some caffeine… please!? I really want to change back into myself some time soon, and I'm really missing some of my female assets…" Jordan harrumphed.

"You're a freaking tiger," Lyn observed, resisting an urge to bang her head against the nearest wall. "Forget female assets – you're missing _human_ assets, Jordan. And who the crap drank the rest of the freaking coffee, anyway, dadgum it!?"

"Oh, my God… Let me out! I gotta pee!" Jordan got up and ran over to the door and jumped up, scratching at the wood.

"Whoa… we can't let her out! We gotta get her a leash and collar and fake papers!" Sam said.

"Come on… she's just gotta go to the bathroom… I'm sure nobody'll notice her," Dean replied.

"Nobody'll notice a freaking TIGER!?" Lyn demanded, whacking Dean upside the head. "Are you out of your godforsaken yankee mind, man!? Yeah, that's it, randomly open the door and let a TIGER go waltzing out onto the street and pretend nothing's unusual at all. You've got to at least hide her or something until I can fix up some documents and murder whoever drank my coffee…"

"I'll get her out there to go to the bathroom somehow… Come on, Jordan… let's get a coat on you."

Dean grabbed a big baggy leather coat and threw it over Jordan. "I wonder how much you weigh…"

"Tigers generally weigh between two hundred fifty and five hundred pounds," Lyn said darkly. "Depending on the species. If I were the betting type, I'd put money on it that she weighs at least three hundred, seeing as she about squashed me a couple of times already…"

"Oh, well, thanks for that, Lyn…" Jordan glared at her.

"I'll try to carry you… but I don't know if I can…" Dean looked apologetic.

"Okay…" Jordan bowed her head in shame.

Dean took a huge breath inwards and picked her up. "Ungh… you weigh… uh… not much, for a tiger?"

Sam opened the door for them and Dean carried her outside to a patch of wood where he promptly put her down and then lay down on the ground, panting.

"Y'know, Sam, I think she's trying to kill your brother," Lyn observed blandly, crossing her arms and blinking after Dean and Jordan-the-tiger's exit. "Or maybe it would be more accurate to say he's actually trying to kill himself… or maybe not trying to… but seriously…"

Shaking her head, she retrieved her laptop and began a search on proper documentation for large, exotic animals.

Sam sighed and looked at Lyn. It seemed weird to him, but the only thing he wanted to do was kiss her… a lot.

"What's the matter?" Lyn murmured almost absentmindedly, still without taking her eyes off the computer screen.

"Nothing, just…" Sam couldn't take it any longer. It'd been such a long day and she looked really… perfect. He abruptly turned the chair she was sitting in around and kissed her.

Lyn was completely taken off guard by the sudden action, but that was only for a moment. Then she forgot about papers for tigers who weren't really tigers and returned the kiss. In the past couple of days, she had been so busy worrying about Jordan that she hadn't paid much attention to Sam except when they were plotting their raid on the building where they had found out that Jordan was being kept, and it was only now that Lyn really realized that. It was also only now that she realized how much she had missed him.

Sam pulled her into a standing position and crushed her against him. His hands slid up her sides and to her back, and he lingered there a moment before dropping his hands lower, to the hem of her shirt.

An electric current coursed through Lyn's chest, rather like it had the time Sam had answered the door with no shirt on, or when he had first kissed her. But this time it didn't make her freeze or pull away; in fact, it seemed to have the opposite effect. An actual magnetic force likely couldn't have brought them any closer as one of her hands trailed slowly across his back and the other grasped his shoulder, pulling him closer.

Sam slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt and ran his hands across Lyn's lower back. He pulled back and trailed kisses along her jaw to her ear and down to the hollow at the base of her throat.

Lyn shuddered slightly, letting out the faintest of gasps as she caught her fingers in Sam's hair. It was almost intoxicating, the sensation of his lips on her neck and his breath ghosting across her skin. It felt like ages since they had just put aside the havoc of life as hunters and spent a little time together, but at the moment Lyn really thought she could have remained there in his arms forever.

Sam smiled against her skin and moved back up to her lips, gently biting her lower lip before resting his forehead against hers and resting his hands on her hips. "Hi," he said quietly, smiling at her.

Smiling faintly, Lyn trailed a finger down the side of his face and gazed into those gorgeous eyes for a moment before answering in a whisper, "Hi."

_God, she's beautiful…_ Sam was about to say something, but was interrupted by yelling just outside the door. Sam groaned and rolled his eyes.

Jordan flounced in a few seconds later, flicking her tail indignantly. "If you close your eyes, you won't know the difference!" she yelled at Dean after she jumped up on one of the beds and started to groom herself.

"No! It's weird and creepy… even for me." Dean walked in with a disgusted expression on his face. "We need to get her changed back. Soon."

"Right," Lyn said quickly, a hint of color rising to her cheekbones as she cleared her throat and went back to her computer. "I, uh… yeah… I was just about to… um… start looking… for that…"


	5. The Simplest Solution

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Y'know, we should kick all of y'all people who put out alerts and stuff but don't review… or maybe not, because then you might stop reading… BUT STILL!

Jordan: Indeed. Because reviews are like Honey Bunches of Oats – you can't get enough. -crunch-

Me: … You are waaay too addicted to that cereal, you know…

Jordan: Not possible. :D -crunch- But review! Pretty please!

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**Chapter Five – The Simplest Solution**

Jordan lay curled up to Dean's side, one paw resting on his stomach and the other on his chest. They were both asleep. Lyn and Sam were in a similar position, except that there was a book across them and, of course, neither of them was a tiger.

A low growl came from Jordan's stomach, and she opened her eyes. "Stupid meat craving…"

She padded over to the table that held Lyn's laptop and all their duffels. "How…?"

Upon realizing that she was too short to reach the table and that, if she jumped on it, she would likely crush it, she growled louder this time.

"Mm?" Lyn murmured, lifting her head off of Sam's chest and blinking groggily. "Oh, hey, JJ…" She sat up, yawning, and rubbed her face with her hands in order to wake up more effectively. "What's the matter, you hungry again?"

Jordan nodded. "I can't reach… Yet another thing that sucks… I hate being a tiger…"

She flopped down on the ground and Lyn breathed a half yawn, half sigh before getting up quietly so as not to wake Sam and crossing the room to stand next to Jordan. "We'll figure it out soon," she said reassuringly, stifling another yawn as she retrieved a package of raw meat and put it on a plate for Jordan. After setting it down on the floor, she looked around the room at the sleeping Dean and Sam and murmured, "I guess we all fell asleep. Sorry about that."

Jordan was too busy chomping down on the plate of meat to answer. Just then, there was another yawn from the other side of the room.

"Huh? What happened? Jordan?" Dean sat up in bed and looked around, then smirked when he finally saw her. "You know… you could have just woken me up, Jordan."

Jordan didn't respond.

"Ugh… Why is everyone talking?" Sam asked, sitting up in bed, as well.

"Nah," Lyn said, sighing and leaning against the wall. "Why would she just wake you up when she can wake me up, have me get her the meat, and _then_ wake everybody else up? And, Sam, we're talking for the same reason you are – because we got woken up. On that note, anybody know what time it is?"

Jordan burped and sighed, content. "Well, that was good…"

Upon noticing everyone sitting up and staring at her, she raised her eyebrows and coughed. "What're you all doing up? I only remember waking up Lyn…"

Dean chuckled. "Well… See, you were both talking, and then you growled. And I'm pretty sure that my body is trained to wake up whenever someone or something growls."

Sam smirked and added, "I woke up after Dean. By then nobody was bothering to be quiet, so…"

"Hey, I didn't wake you up when I got up and I didn't say anything actually out loud until after you started talking," Lyn said defensively. "So maybe that's mostly because I was still half asleep and therefore was too groggy to actually speak normally… But it's the point of the thing, dadburn it."

"This always happens," Jordan chuckled to herself before jumping back onto the bed. "Okay! Hunger crisis over! Everyone can go back to sleep now!"

Then, after making sure her claws weren't out, she tackled Dean to the bed.

Dean smirked and rolled his eyes. Sam looked at the two disbelievingly and then switched his gaze to Lyn.

"No," Lyn said with a sigh. "I never meant to go to sleep in the first place. I'm supposed to be figuring stuff out, remember?"

She then chuckled darkly and sat down next to Sam again, picking up the book she had been searching through earlier. After making a face at it and turning a couple of pages, she grumbled, "How come it was so easy to figure out random crap in school that didn't amount to a hill of beans, but now I can't even find a freaking answer to something that's actually important?"

Jordan didn't say anything, just closed her eyes and attempted to sleep. Then she shot up in surprise when a sudden blaring noise resounded throughout the room. More specifically, the tune of Smoke on the Water.

"Dean, answer your phone before I shoot it," Lyn growled, grimacing and hitting herself in the head with the book. "That is the most freaking evil song in the history of freaking evil songs…"

After displacing a sleeping Jordan, Dean got up and started to walk toward the noise. "You kidding me? This is one of the greatest songs ever!"

Meanwhile, Sam took the book away from Lyn. "Don't smack yourself in the head with books! You might damage it. This one's from the library."

"Not if all three of your cousins for some bizarre reason believe that they can play guitar and that is the only song they know," Lyn said, shuddering at the thought. "Every year, since I was twelve years old, any time I would go to their house one of them would be playing that freaking song. It's enough to make you want to bash your skull in after four or five years."

Then she switched her gaze to Sam, shoved him in the shoulder, and grumbled, "Yeah, well, nice to know you care. About the freaking _book_."

Sam smirked. "You know I care about you, too. But, see… the worst that can happen to you if you keep banging your head on that book is that you'll get a headache. On the other hand… if you damage the book, we have to pay for it."

Before Lyn had time to answer or even come up with a retort, Sam pressed his lips firmly to hers. He let the kiss linger for a few seconds, then pulled away and lay back on the bed with his hands folded behind his head.

"Wow… That was slightly disturbing…" Dean shuddered and answered his phone.

"Hey, Bobby… Yeah. You did? … You've got to be kidding me! That's all? We were trying to get her out of there, we didn't even think of that! … Okay… Yeah."

He grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and started scribbling things down on it. Every few seconds he would say 'Mmhmm' or 'Okay' and nod his head.

"Thanks, Bobby," he said finally. "Bye."

"Tell me he figured something out," Lyn said hopefully. "Otherwise I'm gonna have to mug Sam to get back the book he freaking stole so I can keep looking. You know, because apparently he isn't gonna do anything more strenuous than lie there and look nice…"

"Son of a bitch… Son of a – We have to kill the witch… to reverse the spell."

Sam's face betrayed no emotion as his eyes bored a hole in Dean's head.

Lyn blinked. Then she stared. Then she demanded, "Are you freaking serious!?"

"'Fraid so," Dean answered with a groan as he slipped his phone into his pocket. "That was Bobby, he gave us a list of things that we should have to kill her."

Sam glared at the ceiling. "So we've been dealing with a Jordan-tiger for weeks now and the only thing we had to do… was kill the witch? Which we could've done while we were there…"

"We are such freaking morons," Lyn groaned, falling backwards off the bed and onto the floor with a crash. "Stupid, retarded, freaking morons…"

Jordan shot up in bed. "Wha? What happened?" She turned around and saw just a pair of feet sticking up from behind the bed. "Lyn…? What the hell are you doing…?"

Sam cocked an eyebrow. "She fell… Oh, and uh… wefoundawaytoturnyouback."

Dean rolled his eyes and just sat down on the edge of his and Jordan's bed.

"Wait… What, now?" Jordan asked with wide eyes.

"And we are complete and utter, bona fide, grade A imbeciles," Lyn grumbled, sitting up cross-legged on the floor. "I mean, we spent ages researching and reading and checking out books and doing internet searches and forging fake papers --"

She cut herself off, and her expression shifted as she gave a disgruntled sort of glare to both Dean and Sam. "You know I hate you for making me forge those stupid papers when the answer was so freaking simple, right?"

"How were _we_ supposed to know!?" Dean and Sam yelled at the same time.

Jordan grinned a fang-ridden grin and started to jump up and down on the bed. "I'm gonna be able to jump on people without killing them! And kiss Dean without biting him! YES!"

"I don't know," Lyn admitted, heaving a sigh. "But it's four o'clock in the morning, I haven't slept more than two hours a day in weeks, I just got woken up by a tiger who is or was or at least is supposed to be my sister, not to mention informed just how pathetically stupid I am, and on top of it all we now have to go kill a witch that so far we haven't even managed to actually _see_ yet. You're right, I should be perfectly chipper and not blame anybody for anything."

She then stood up, fell facefirst onto the bed, and muttered into the blankets, "I wonder if it's possible to smother oneself with bedcovers…?"

Jordan jumped off the bed and landed with a crash. "I'm sure it is…"

Sam, however, looked over at Lyn with shifty eyes. "Yeah… no." He then grabbed her by the waist and pulled her over to him, and Dean smirked.

"Hey!" Lyn objected, fighting a desire to laugh and attempting to glare at the same time. "Sam, what the heck do you think you're doing!?"

"Attempting to stop you from being killed by things in our motel room. I mean, you already did the death-defying fall off the bed. I don't think it's safe for you." Sam pulled her close to his side and wrapped his arms around her.

Jordan and Dean both grinned.

"Not safe, right," Lyn muttered, but laid her head back on his shoulder, anyway. "Like before, when it was too cold and I might get sick, or when I shouldn't be reading the book by myself because it's too important for me to miss something by accident or sleep deprivation? … You're just gonna lay here and not let me go until I fall asleep again, aren't you?"

Sam grinned devilishly in response. Jordan jumped up on the bed next to Dean, watching Sam and Lyn's exchange.

Lyn stifled a yawn and halfheartedly tried to sit up. Upon failing miserably in said attempt, she sighed and grumbled, "You're a very mean and conniving individual, Sam Winchester, y'know that?"

"Yeah, I'm okay with it," Sam said with a smirk as he lowered his head onto the pillow, yawned, and tightened his grip on Lyn.

"As thrilling as this is… We should really kill this witch so Jordan can get her human body back… amongst other things," Dean said, then looked over to Jordan and smirked.

"Amen to that," Jordan said, grinning.

"But he won't let me go," Lyn complained. "Sam… So help me, Sam, you ignore me and pretend to be asleep and I'll hit you! I know you're awake, you wouldn't still be trying to snap me in half if you weren't!"

Sam lay motionless on the bed, his face void of emotion. Jordan rolled her eyes and jumped over to Sam and Lyn's bed. After cocking her head to the side, she smacked Sam in the head with her paw.

Nothing.

Jordan looked to Dean, her eyes narrowed. "Sam, get your ass up! We all know you're not asleep!"

Nothing.

Dean smirked, but did nothing.

"Sam – come on, quit it!" Lyn protested, attempting to wriggle free. "Sam, seriously! This isn't funny!"

Upon getting nowhere, she growled in annoyance and crossed her arms, glaring. "You know, when you break my ribs because I'm trying to get up and you won't let go, I'm gonna break your arm…"

Jordan glared at Dean and waved her paw in a 'come here' motion. Dean sighed and got up. "You beckoned?"

Jordan rolled her eyes. "Well, obviously, Einstein. We need you to pry Sam off of Lyn."

Dean did just that. After rather a lot of pulling on Dean's part and continued bids for freedom from Lyn, Sam finally gave in, smirking.

"Jackass," Jordan mumbled under her breath. "Do you like me not being able to do regular boy and girl things with Dean? I DON'T! So get your ass up before I stab you with one of my claws!"

Dean laughed and grabbed his duffel, and Jordan jumped off the bed and looked expectantly at Sam.

"Fine… fine… And for your information, your supposed 'regular boy and girl things' scar me. Let's just get this over with."

Sam got up and held his hand out for Lyn, who was sprawled out on the bed. She took it and let him help her to her feet. She then straightened up, shook back her hair, and whacked him hard in the back of the head. "Told you," she said, making a face at him before grabbing her own duffel, throwing it over her shoulder, and marching a safe distance away.

Sam grinned and grabbed his own bag before going to the door and opening it. Jordan shot out as soon as the door opened, dashing between the Impala and the Grand Am.

"Oh, that's just great… If she gets seen –" Dean ran after her.

Sam looked over at Lyn, still grinning. "After you, milady."

Lyn rolled her eyes and walked past him, muttering under her breath, "I guess I didn't hit you hard enough. Still mean and conniving…"


	6. Trial by Fire

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: So we finally finished this chap! We spent three days trying to finish it, actually, which really wasn't all THAT long, what with Jordan's school ending and me being an assistant in the fourth grade class at VBS…

Jordan: And now we are both freeeeee!

Me: Yes. And Jordan gets to be awesome in this chap. Bwahaha!

Jordan: My muse served me well tonight. And now I must send her to coerce you all into reviewing… -innocent grin-

* * *

**Chapter Six – Trial by Fire**

"Okay… so, to be clear. I'm supposed to stay here while the three of you fools go in there and kill a witch. With me not there. Staying here. Am I correct?"

Dean and Sam were silent, feeling that Lyn was probably the best person to handle her.

Lyn sighed. "Look, JJ… I know you don't like it. I wouldn't like it. But you cannot walk back into the building with the witch who turned you into a tiger for who knows what reason and which I personally do not want to find out. No, it won't be fun, but you'll live. Which is kind of the point of this whole excursion, really. And the fact remains that you can't protect yourself properly as a tiger, and if you go in there and get yourself killed, I will bring you back from the dead and freaking kill you myself. After I kill the witch. And before I kill myself. All of which will be on your head. So, we clear?"

Jordan growled and bared her teeth, but lay down anyway. "Fine! Thanks for the guilt trip… jerk…"

She glared up at Lyn and then rested her head on the seat in front of her, and Dean and Sam exchanged a glance that clearly said, 'Lyn has some mad skills!'

* * *

"Eurgh, and I thought this place was creepy _before_ we knew these critters were the women who disappeared," Lyn said with a rather disgusted expression as she looked through the window. Then she froze and grabbed Sam's arm as he reached for the door handle.

"I just thought of something," she said, giving him a sideways look. "If killing the witch turns Jordan back, won't it change the others back, too? While they're stuck… in small cages… most of which no normal person could actually fit in…?"

Sam groaned and rolled his eyes. "Great… just great…"

"So… we have to get all of these… _people_ out of these cages _before_ we kill the witch, _and_ stay undetected?" Dean asked, looking at Sam and Lyn.

Lyn bit her lip. "Well, either that or most of them get smushed… and/or crushed… and/or impaled with broken pieces of steel… so, yeah, basically."

"Right… Well, let's get going, shall we?"

Dean climbed through the window, followed closely by Lyn and Sam.

Lyn fished the nail file out of her pocket again and frowned at the nearest cage, a small one which contained a squirrel, and grimaced. "Yeah, that ain't gonna work…" A moment later, she pulled a bobby pin from the back of her hair and fitted it against the lock. "This'll do. Anyway, y'all have something to pick locks with?"

Dean pulled out three lock picks and smirked. "I think this might work better than a hair pin, huh?"

Sam grinned and grabbed a lock pick from Dean's hand, but Lyn promptly opened the cage door and turned around to smirk at them, twirling the bobby pin between her fingers. "You were saying…? Anyway, bobby pins are awesome. They serve more than one function and are less conspicuous."

She then returned the pin to her hair and snatched one of the lock picks from Dean before returning her attention to the next cage, this one containing a rather surly-looking bulldog.

"You know… it would be mildly amusing if not all of these critters were actually people…"

"Yeah, sure – if you call dying amusing," Dean said as he and Sam walked over to several cages containing dogs and cats and started to undo the locks.

"Oh, yeah, death by bulldog," Lyn muttered, rolling her eyes. "If you're worried about this little critter, Dean, I'd hate to see your face if you met Angel. Gorgeous black-and-tan pit bull I left back home. Weighs more than I do and could look you in the eyes if she stood on her hind legs."

"Psh… I'm talking about the fact that its attack would most likely alert this fugly son of a bitch to our arrival. That wouldn't be so awesome… would it? No… Psh, I can take on that bulldog…"

Dean rolled his eyes and unlocked his fourth cage. By now, the animals were all gathering in the middle of the room. Sam moved quickly to the last three cages and unlocked them all with ease.

"Okay… let's do this."

"And pray it works," Lyn added darkly. "I don't much fancy getting turned into a turtle or something and shoved in a cage…"

"Yeah," Dean and Sam agreed in unison. All three then looked at each other and started to walk forward. They crept through the house toward a distant sound, music. It seemed to be classical. Mozart.

Dean and Sam stood with their backs against the wall outside the room, and Lyn lingered a half step away, ritual paper in hand.

Sam looked questioningly at her and nodded his head in the witch's general direction. Lyn's gaze switched from Sam to the shadow on the wall. It didn't seem to be alerted to their presence… yet…

_This Bobby had better know what he's talking about…_

"Jineha tua due, leane tudue, paunte huan, yerti fantatchite, olinae retutate… Gertue jentige, laine olenua, qernua."

A piercing scream split the air, followed by an explosion which knocked all three hunters off their feet and down the stairs. After a series of crashes and thuds and the sliding of people across the floor, a dead silence fell. Lyn broke said silence with a cough and a half-suppressed groan, having had the air knocked out of her upon hitting the ground. She then raised her head and blinked twice to clear her vision.

"Okay… that… stung a little bit…" She shook her head and glanced around, trying to ignore the throbbing of her head and the fact that her back felt like it had been shredded. "Y'all two all right?"

"Ungh… that was painful… but yeah, I'm good," Dean mumbled.

"I'm good, too… I think…" Sam flipped over onto his back as he spoke, and there was silence again, as well as the smell of burning wood and flesh.

"Yeah… okay," Lyn said after a moment, lifting herself off the ground with a set jaw and a faint grimace. She then paused, wrinkling her brow at her right arm, which had been shaking under her weight, and found herself staring at a gash on the back of her upper arm and shoulder. "Hm. Well, that's nice." Shaking her head and fighting a sudden wave of dizziness that came with that action, she said more loudly, "All right, get up and get moving, the both of you. Unless I hit my head a lot harder than I thought and am now hallucinating, this place is on fire."

Sam got up, blood running down from a wound on his forehead, and pulled Dean to his feet before grabbing Lyn's hand and pulling her toward the door. Dean, however, yelled, "Get out of here and I'll be right behind you!"

"Dean, are you crazy!?" Lyn demanded. "We have to make sure those people get out!"

"Just go! Get them out! Dad's journal must have fallen when we fell, I have to find it!" Dean yelled, running up up the stairs again.

"Come on… He'll be fine, come on, we have to go!" Sam urged, pulling Lyn to the door. She finally gave in and went along with him. Sticking around wouldn't help anything, anyway, and it would only put Sam and the women who had been kidnapped in danger, too.

* * *

Dean finally reached the top of the stairs. "Shit… Where is it!?" The heat was almost unbearable, yet he ventured further. This book was all that was left of his father; it was everything he knew about hunting, every evil thing he ever came across. And, though he would never admit it to Sam, Lyn, or Jordan, it kept John alive for Dean – and, without it, he felt he might fall apart.

Sweat dripped down his face and neck as he came face-to-face with the flames. "Ah! Son of a –" Wood and flying embers fell on Dean's head, sending him down to his knees. Finally he spotted the journal, about ten feet away from where they had stood not ten minutes ago. He tried to stand, but couldn't, pain keeping him on his knees. He bit his lip and started to crawl toward the book, every agonizing inch bringing him closer and closer.

* * *

Sam ran to the window outside the room that had held all the animals, Lyn hot on his trail. To their relief, about a dozen very relieved and confused-looking women in rather nasty-looking clothing stood there in the middle of the room. Sam broke the window and put his coat into the empty pane.

"Climb through – hurry! The house is on fire!"

The women looked to the source of the sound and there were a couple of screams and gasps at his words, but they all quickly headed for the window, forming an impromptu line. After they had all climbed through, with the help of Sam and Lyn, they all started off at a run toward the Impala.

Again, Sam and Lyn were relieved to find that a very human Jordan stood there. The change of clothes they had brought had definitely been a good idea; at least she wasn't as filthy as the others. Jordan opened the door upon hearing their footsteps and looked relieved.

_Whew, I was starting to – wait, where the hell is Dean!? _"Where's Dean!? Sam! Lyn! Where is he!?"

"He's still inside," Sam said grimly. "Our dad's journal… we dropped it when we were knocked down the stairs, he went back for it –"

Before Sam could say anything else or Lyn could speak at all, Jordan took off running. Lyn whirled, looking frenzied, but Sam held her back, the flames reflecting in his eyes. "Lyn, no," he said in a voice that was hoarse but insistent. He wasn't going to lose her like this, and he couldn't take the chance that might happen. "Please, just stay here."

* * *

Jordan ran up the stairs, careful to avoid flying embers. "Dean! Dean! Can you hear me!?"

Her eyes scanned the hallway until they finally came to rest upon an unconscious Dean, and lying next to him, a leather-bound notebook.

"Shit!" Jordan took off, running toward him, dodging wood and sparks. She bit down on the leather clasp holding the notebook closed to carry it and keep her hands free, then grabbed Dean's arms and began pulling him backwards through the hallway and kicking debris out of the way as she went.

After what seemed like hours, they reached the top of the stairs. "Sorry, Dean… this is gonna suck…"

Jordan started to pull Dean down the stairs, his head thumping on every step. She winced as every thud and was glad to finally reach the bottom of the staircase.

Just then, Sam ran through the doorway and grabbed Dean from Jordan's grateful arms. He threw his brother over his shoulder with only a little grunting and started stumbling toward the car, Jordan right behind him with the journal clutched in her shaking hands.

Lyn turned toward the house again, a worried and almost panicked expression gracing her features, but this was quickly washed away by relief when she caught sight of the trio emerging from the burning building. She let out a breath she had been holding, closed her eyes for a second, and whispered, "Wado, Unelanvhi…"

When her eyes snapped open, they were much less frightened, but she was still speaking very quickly as she said, "I finally loaded everybody in my car and yours – they all fit, with room for us, but nobody's gonna be very comfortable. Come on, let's get out of here."

Sam pushed Dean into the back seat, on the laps of a few girls, who seemed more than happy to let him do so. Jordan squashed herself into the passenger seat of the Grand Am, Lyn already in the driver's seat. Sam then jumped behind the wheel of the Impala and they both sped off.


	7. Barely Holding On

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Me: As readers of On the Run will already know, we apologize for going AWOL for a while there, but Jordan here was at camp.

Jordan: Yeah, with a bunch of freaking jerks…

Me: Freaking jerks are prevalent these days, unfortunately. But anyway, we are back with a new chapter!

Jordan: And we need reviews muchly! -puppy dog eyes-

Me: You realize those really aren't all that effective…

Jordan: Maybe they will be, wait and let's see! -crunch-

* * *

**Chapter Seven – Barely Holding On**

Jordan sat in the front of Lyn's car, hugging her knees and chewing on her nails with a faraway look in her eyes. The Impala was going at least 50 in front of them, which Lyn was matching.

"He'll be all right," Lyn reassured her sister with a sideways glance, guessing what Jordan was worrying about. Mostly because it was the same thing she had been worrying about only a few minutes before, when Dean and Jordan and Sam had all been inside the witch's burning house. If something had happened then, and they hadn't come back out… Lyn suppressed a shudder and tried not to think about it. Regardless of promising Sam that she would wait outside, she doubted she could have just stood there and watched the roof cave in on top of them.

A fat tear ran down Jordan's cheek; she didn't even bother to wipe it away. "I don't know what I'm gonna do if he…" She stopped talking, not trusting her body to keep from breaking down completely on her.

"Don't," Lyn said sharply, grasping Jordan's shoulder with one hand and continuing to drive with the other. "Don't think like that, okay? Just listen to me: _He's gonna be fine_. He will. Sam won't let him – won't let anything happen, all right?"

"Uh… what's going on?" asked a small voice from the back seat, which was followed by murmurs from the five or six other women crammed into the back of Lyn's car.

Jordan leaned away from Lyn's grip and rested her head against the window, shutting herself off from the rest of the car completely.

"Just focus on staying calm, for now," Lyn advised, as much to herself and to Jordan as to anyone else. Her voice was calm and gentle, but her Southern accent was thicker than usual, the only sign that spoke toward her current unstable emotions. "The last thing we need right now is for somebody to hyperventilate or go into shock. We'll try to explain all this when there's time, but somebody got hurt back there and we're not gonna be able to do that properly until we're sure he's all right, okay?"

"Okay," the same scared voice agreed, and the car became suddenly silent. It was almost eerie with the lack of the usual country or classic rock blaring from the speakers and the only sound being the occasional sniffle or low murmur of comfort from one girl to another.

The hospital waiting room wasn't very crowded at two o'clock in the morning, all except for the corner of the room where a half dozen or so fairly frantic women were huddled around Sam, Lyn, and Jordan. All of them wanted answers and, since Jordan had gone fairly catatonic after her few words in the car and was presently huddled silently in a chair, it was up to Sam and Lyn to attempt to restore order.

"Please try to keep it down," Lyn said in a low voice that was supposed to sound earnest but came out more weary than anything. "There are people right there –"

"But I want to know what's going on!" insisted one woman who had gotten over the fear part and was now on to straight hysteria. "You said you would tell us –"

"This really, really isn't a good time," Lyn almost pleaded.

"It wasn't a good time for me to be turned into a _snake_, either –"

"Shh!" Lyn hissed, casting a suspicious glance at a teenage boy who was eyeing the group strangely. "Look, if you want us to tell you anything, you're going to have to calm down and think rationally! You can't just shout about things like this in public, for heaven's sake!"

"Um… excuse me? Are you the family of… uh… Dean Winchester?"

A doctor walked into the waiting room, carrying a clipboard and looking exhausted. Jordan jumped out of her seat and practically ran over to her. "Yes, I am. Please… is he going to be okay?"

"He's… in a coma. So we can't assess his full situation until he wakes up… _if_ he wakes up."

Jordan's expression went from hopeful to unbelieving to devastated in two seconds. Her eyes welled up with tears, which she let roll down her cheeks in rivulets. "No…" she whispered. "You're lying…" She shook her head slowly before sinking to the ground.

"Unelanvhi, tla," Lyn whispered, gripping Sam's arm tightly and feeling mildly nauseous as she watched her sister crumple to the floor.

"I'm sorry about your friend," the hysteric woman by Lyn and Sam pressed, "but please –"

"No, you're not, so just freaking shut your godforsaken mouth already!" Lyn snapped, suddenly pushing past the woman and approaching Jordan tentatively before kneeling beside her.

"JJ," Lyn said in a low, hoarse voice as she reached for her sister's hand, tears sparkling in her darkening green eyes but still restrained by what little willpower she had left at this point. "Jordan… listen to me, it's not over yet. He's not through fighting, and you're not gonna give up yet, either, you hear me?"

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat, thanked the doctor, and pushed past a few women, moving to stand behind Lyn.

Jordan didn't say anything; she couldn't. She felt completely numb and completely overwhelmed by her emotions at the same time.

"You can visit him, if you want to," the doctor said. "One at a time, though. I'm sorry…" She looked down, and then turned away and retreated back down the hall.

"Jordan," Lyn repeated, the fear in her eyes only growing as her sister failed to respond. "Jordan, please, just say _something_. Please."

When Jordan still remained silent, Lyn's hands began to shake. Her voice, too, was so unstable it was barely recognizable as she half pleaded, "D-do you want to – t-to go see him? Get up, at least, Jordan, please, you'll just – just make yourself sick, this way."

Lyn's voice died in her throat, then, and she couldn't speak the rest of the words that rang in her head: _Please, please, just get up! You've got to get up and keep fighting and believe he'll be okay! You can't give in and close up like this, it'll kill you. Please, Jordan, we can't lose you now, not like this!_

Jordan's lower lip trembled, her eyes seeming unseeing. Visions of Dean lying in a hospital bed, his body being violated by tubes and needles, ran through her head. She started to shake her head violently. Sam pushed the curious women who had begun to crowd them back, starting to think she might go into shock.

A nod was the only way Lyn could find to communicate to Jordan that she understood, that it was okay, that she didn't have to go. Lyn could barely breathe past the constricting of her throat, much less speak. She put a hand on her sister's shoulder, a hand that was supposed to be comforting but was just too shaky and uncertain for that. With one hand on Jordan's shoulder and one on her arm, Lyn tried to pull upward, to convince her to get up off the floor. Of course, she could have lifted her – although maybe not, considering how badly her hands were shaking at the moment – but she just wanted Jordan to move on her own, to give some sign that she wasn't just giving up completely.

Jordan finally turned to look at Lyn, her eyes wide with terror and filled with tears. She finally spoke, her voice barely a whisper: "I have to see him."

Suddenly she got up and walked away toward Dean's room, leaving everyone looking after her. It was a long moment before anyone moved, but finally Lyn stood shakily and wrapped her arms tightly around Sam, hiding her face against his chest and finally letting the tears fall. He rested his chin on top of her head and pulled her impossibly closer. "It'll be okay," he told her in a reassuring whisper. "They're both strong… They'll pull through it."

_I hope…_ he added in his mind. It was an almost unbearable thought, the idea of losing Dean, but he knew – or kept telling himself, anyway – that Dean was strong, too strong and too stubborn to die like this. He would fight with all his strength to come out of it.

But what scared Lyn was that she wasn't sure any more whether Jordan was willing to fight to live.

* * *

Jordan walked through the door to Dean's room, prepared for anything. What she saw was much worse than what she had been prepared for.

Dean lay on a lone hospital bed, tubes in his nose and throat, needles in his arms and hands. There were second degree burns on his arms, chest, and beautiful face.

"Oh, God…"

She slowly approached his side and looked down at him, tears dripping onto his bandaged hand.


	8. Screw You, Dean Winchester

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Me: Okay. I'm gonna be the one begging y'all for reviews this time, because I really, really want input on this one. Why? Because, this chap, I took a whack at writing Dean and I really wanna know how I really did.

Jordan: Really?

Me: Really. :P

* * *

**Chapter Eight – Screw You, Dean Winchester**

It was a strange feeling, the odd numbness. Dean knew that he should be in pain, in serious pain after the fire. But wait… He had passed out in that fire, trying to retrieve his dad's journal. And if he had passed out… Holy crap, was he dead!?

Well, if he was, then he had just been proven right in being skeptical about the promise of some sort of heaven after death. There was nothing, nothing at all. Just a strange numbness, because he couldn't feel his body at all. And… a beeping sound? What the –

And it was then that it struck him. The beeping, in a steady rhythm that could only be a human heartbeat. So he was alive, in a hospital. But then, why couldn't he _feel_ anything? Was he paralyzed!? Oh, great, that would be just what he needed, to become some sort of invalid, a drag on everyone who was totally useless…

But it was it possible to be _totally_ paralyzed and still be alive? He couldn't even seem to _find_ his eyelids, much less lift them…

And then he heard her. Jordan's voice was faint and sad, and it made Dean want to reach out and comfort her, but he couldn't figure out how. And it frustrated him, but at the same time listening to her words made him feel… better, somehow.

Jordan sat next to Dean's bed, his hand in hers. "Dean… I don't know if you can hear me, but it's not the same without you here. I mean… I know that we're usually joking around or doing… physical stuff, but you mean everything to me, and I can't let you die… I won't. Just know that. I love you so much."

She kissed his hand and rubbed it against her cheek, and Dean could hear the sound that her lips made as they pressed against his hand, hear her breathing, in and out and in and out… And he wanted so badly to be able to _feel_, to take in the sensation of her breath tickling against his skin, to know the feeling of her kiss… But again, it eluded him, and it was the most frustrating thing he had ever known.

He wanted to tell her that of course he could hear her, that he knew exactly what she meant, that he loved her, too, more than he could ever tell her. And he wanted to tell her that she didn't have to worry, because he _would_ be coming back to her. He would, no matter what he had to do. But the words just flew around futilely inside his head, where only he could hear them and they did her no good at all.

And Dean Winchester couldn't remember ever feeling so useless.

* * *

It had been a week since the fire, and Dean still hadn't woken up. Lyn had finally gotten herself under control well enough to properly explain things to the women who had been kidnapped by the witch, and they were now long gone, back to their respective homes or wherever they had come from. It would probably take some time, but they would put the horror and shock behind them and move on, go back to their normal lives.

Lyn wondered vaguely what it was _like_ to have a normal life. There had been times when she would have happily traded her own life for a normal one, but that hadn't happened since she had been with Sam. Despite the looming threat of the supernatural, while she had been with him and Jordan and Dean, she had felt safe, happy, like she was where she was supposed to be. And Jordan had been happy, too, which was just about as important to Lyn as anything.

But that wasn't how it was any more, and for the first time in a long time, Lyn was thinking about that normal life she had never had, and never would have. Jordan wouldn't be going through this now, if they weren't Elumos. Dean wouldn't be in the hospital in the first place, because he wouldn't have been forced to kill that witch, and Sam wouldn't have to be living day by day wondering if his brother would wake up. Lyn felt like she was dying, too, every time she saw that look in his eyes.

The doctors has been lenient with their one-visitor policy after Jordan had refused to leave Dean's bedside. She had sat there with him for seven straight days now, and every day when Lyn had been allowed to go in, she had watched her sister get paler and thinner and more desperate. And that hurt like a knife in Lyn's chest, knowing how much Jordan was hurting and not being able to do anything about it.

None of them slept much, because Lyn and Sam wouldn't leave, either. They were exiled to the waiting room except for a few hours a day, but still they stayed. They camped out on the uncomfortable chairs and tried their best to keep each other from going insane, but the situation was taking its toll. There were circles under every eye, hair grew unkempt, and already Lyn had had three allergy attacks to latex, a banana juice-spiked salad, and some old man's cologne. And that was just on the outside. The inside was worse, because hope was beginning to dwindle day by day.

Lyn was instantly worried when she walked in that day and saw her sister's face. Jordan had a strange look in her eyes, like she was steeling herself for something desperate. Lyn worried for Jordan's safety, but never in a million years would she have predicted what the younger woman was really thinking.

"It's been a week…" Jordan said quietly as she sat by Dean's bed, tracing her thumb over the back of his hand. Sam and Lyn were supposed to be getting lunch from the hospital cafeteria, and so this was probably her only chance. "Oh, God, I swore I would only do this as a last resort… Dean, if you can hear me, I'm sorry, but if I lost you… I just can't. And I won't. I'm gonna make a deal, Dean. Please _try_ to understand."

She kissed his forehead and cupped his cheek in her hand, looking down at his battered, yet still as beautiful as ever, face. Then she placed a note on the bedside table that said something about needing space, grabbed Dean's leather jacket, and took the keys to the Impala before walking out the door.

From where he was trapped inside his comatose body in the hospital bed, Dean's mind was reeling. He kept mentally shouting for her to come back, that it wasn't worth it and he wouldn't let her do it, but it was no use. He couldn't bring her back, he couldn't stop her, and now she was going to –

No, no, she wasn't, she couldn't! She didn't understand, she had to be stopped – but there was no way to do that. Sam and Lyn would never figure it out until too late, and Dean couldn't even communicate to tell them.

God, how could she think to do something like this!? Didn't she understand that it was just a waste, that if he lost her, it would kill him, anyway? Didn't she know that he just wanted her to laugh and be happy and _live_? How was he supposed to live with the guilt of knowing that he was only alive because the woman he loved was –

No, he wasn't even going to think it. He refused, it wasn't going to happen. Sam and Lyn would catch her in the parking lot, she would never get far enough. She wouldn't be able to talk herself out of it; Lyn would see right through it, like she always did. Like Dean always did with Sammy. Because they knew, because they were older and they protected their younger siblings and Lyn would never let her do it.

But Lyn wasn't in the parking lot. Lyn was with Sam, in the basement of the hospital, getting food. Jordan had asked for them to bring her something back, and Lyn had been happy about that because Jordan hadn't been eating, Dean had heard it in her voice. That's where Lyn would be, in the cafeteria, safely out of the way because she thought she was doing what was best for Jordan. And nobody would be there to stop her from bargaining her life away.

And it was all his fault. His fault for going back for the journal, his fault for not being strong enough to make it out, and his fault for falling in love with her in the first place. How ironic, how horrible and cruel and unfair, that the thing he had valued the most only a week ago, his relationship with Jordan, was going to be the thing that cost her everything.

There was no one in the room to see the tear slide down the side of Dean's face.

* * *

Jordan stared down at the small tin in her hand. It held everything needed to summon a crossroads demon. She dropped it in the shallow hole she had made and refilled it. After straightening up and looking around, she was about to leave when she heard a deep voice behind her.

"Well, well, well. Jordan Elumo. They said you might summon me… Tsk, tsk, tsk. Little bit of boy trouble?"

Jordan turned around and came face to face with what could only be described as a walking, talking Adonis. She glared at him and hissed, "I want to make a deal, so let's cut the crap."

"Ooh… Feisty, are we? Fine, then… I was trying to be civil, but fine. So, what do you want?" 'He' shot back.

"Bring Dean out of the coma… Alive. Perfectly healthy. That means _without any aches and pains, injuries, or fatal diseases_," Jordan emphasized, her voice cold.

"Okay, I can do that… but what's with the emphasis on _alive_? Think I'm stupid or something?" the demon replied with a smirk.

"Nope… just a demon. I happen to know that the Winchesters have been a pain in the ass for you demons… You know, kicking ass and taking names. I want to make sure I get what I want."

"Ah, I see… Well, as always… you get a year. You try to weasel your way out of the deal, Dean goes from alive to compost faster than you can say 'coffin.' Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah… I get it. Can we just get this bitch over with?"

"You got it, sweetheart."

Before she could react, he pulled her to him and kissed her full on the lips. Her eyes went wide and she pushed at his chest until he pulled back.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" she yelled.

"Chill, hot lips… That's how I seal the deal." He smirked, and then vanished, and Jordan huffed and walked quickly back to the Impala. She got in and sped off, back toward the hospital.

* * *

It was a bizarre and completely unexplainable feeling, the sudden rush of sensations that seemed to hit Dean like a brick wall. He was suddenly very aware of how very heavy his body was, as it lay there on the tiny hospital bed. He could feel the tape on the back of his left hand, holding an IV in place. The smell of sanitary hospital air, seeming so artificial, pressed in on his senses. And, after all those long days and nights of wishing for nothing more than to be able to feel, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to fall back into that state of numbness, or even to die right then and there so that he would never have to feel again.

The ache in his throat and the burning in his chest alerted Dean to his sudden return to consciousness first. They weren't due to any medical condition that the crossroads demon could have prevented, though; this was a completely different kind of pain, a kind that Jordan obviously hadn't thought of.

"No," he croaked, his voice gruff from lack of use and the throbbing of his throat. He opened his eyes to find them already brimming with tears, but he fought those back as his thoughts became more clear and he became increasingly desperate. It couldn't be too late, there had to be something he could do, there had to be…

"Dean!?" Lyn gasped, and there was a crashing sound as she stood up too quickly from the chair she had been sitting in and it went falling backwards.

Sam was no better. His chair actually went flying against the wall as he shot up and toward his brother. "Dean, you're awake!"

A dead weight fell into the pit of Dean's stomach in stark contrast to what felt like a gaping hole in his chest. Of course, he had known this was coming since Sam and Lyn had returned with lukewarm cafeteria food and no Jordan. Lyn had read the note and been suspicious, but there was nothing anyone could have done at that point, anyway. And now Dean was the only one who knew, the only one who understood, and he knew that neither of the two who were looking at him in amazement had any idea why he no doubt looked horrified, pained, and nauseous all at the same time.

And, God help him, how was he supposed to tell them?

* * *

Jordan pulled up to the hospital and jumped out of the Impala, practically running to Dean's room. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she reached it – and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him awake, surrounded by Lyn and Sam.

Dean's gaze was tumultuous, full of many emotions fighting for superiority, as it fell on Jordan. At the same time, he wanted to tell her off for doing something so stupid, demand to know how he was supposed to live with this, take her in his arms because he had missed her so much, and force down the lump in his throat long enough to ask how long she had. Would it be only minutes, like John had been given? And if it was, how was he supposed to tell her everything he wanted to – that he _needed_ to – in that short space of time?

Distracted as he was by his rampaging thoughts and feelings, Lyn spoke before he did. "Where have you been?" she asked with raised eyebrows but a somewhat relieved look; Dean wondered with a sinking feeling just how long it would take before that relief turned to horror and dread. "You had me worried – you looked so strange this morning, I was afraid you might do something stupid like jump off a parking garage or something."

_Jumping off a building,_ Dean thought slowly. _No, it was much worse than that…_

Jordan plastered on her best fake smile and looked from Dean to Lyn. "Yeah! Sorry, I just needed some fresh air. A few beers."

She then switched her gaze to Dean, and a genuine smile split across her face. She walked over to him and hugged him tightly, though not tight enough to hurt him, and whispered in his ear, "I love you."

Then she pulled back, the smile still present, and Sam shared a look with Lyn, both happy that Jordan was happy and that Dean was actually conscious. And Dean didn't have the heart to ruin that for them – not yet, not until he got some answers and knew for sure what was going on. So he just gave a huge grin at Jordan and said honestly, "You have no idea how good it is to be able to hear _and_ see you say that. God, I missed being able to look at you."

There was dual purpose to the statement: obviously, it began to speak the tiniest bit (because no words could ever fully express) of just how Dean felt, and how he had felt when he had been out of it; and it also let her know that he _had_ heard, and that he was going to want to talk.

"So that means you could hear us, when we talked to you?" Lyn asked with a raised eyebrow, looking surprised but pleased.

"Every word," Dean answered, and again his gaze flickered toward Jordan before a crease appeared between his eyebrows and he added, "That reminds me, Lyn – you kept muttering stuff, under your breath. It sounded like gibberish. You been having some sort of fits or something?"

Lyn looked confused for a second, and then a look of dawning comprehension crossed her face and she laughed. And it was an actual laugh, the first time any of them had laughed since before they had been here, and it made Sam smile at her. No, Dean thought as he saw the happiness in his brother's eyes with that weight that had settled into his stomach growing heavier; he definitely couldn't say anything yet. Not until there was no doubt he was right, that she really had gone through with it.

And even then, could he look Lyn in the eyes and tell her that he was the reason she was going to lose her sister?

Dean had forgotten during his musing that he had asked Lyn a question, so he was mildly surprised when she spoke: "Right, that. No, I don't speak gibberish – just Cherokee. I know you don't really believe in it or anything, but I tend to lapse into it when I pray. It's about the only time I ever do speak it since I left home. I guess I don't really realize I'm not speaking English _or_ that I'm talking out loud."

Dean tried to keep his expression from falling too suddenly. Oh, God. She had been praying for him while he had been the reason her sister was making a deal with a demon. Somehow this just kept getting worse.

Jordan saw the many conflicting emotions in Dean's eyes. He kept looking at her, something in his face that she couldn't quite read. "Hey, guys? Can we be alone for a second? I doubt you want to see our reunion," she said, turning toward Sam and Lyn with a forced smirk on her face.

Lyn pulled a face and turned toward the door, muttering, "Just don't get the nurses or security called in or anything… He's still attached to a heartbeat monitor, remember…" Sam chuckled at her reaction and followed her out the door, shaking his head. Somehow everything was much more amusing now that Dean was going to be all right.

Dean watched carefully until they were well down the hallway outside the door that led back to the waiting room before he switched his gaze back to Jordan. Suddenly the only emotion in his eyes was sorrow as a chill of pure dread coursed through his veins. His voice was lower than usual, too, as he stated more than asked, "You did it. Didn't you."

Jordan winced. "Yes… But you have to understand… I couldn't let anything happen to you!"

Even though he had already known the answer to his question before he asked it, Dean suddenly felt that the world was crashing in around his ears now that she had said it out loud. His gaze shifted out of focus and fell to the blanket on his bed. She had really done it; this was it, he was going to lose her, and he couldn't even do anything about it! He was no longer trapped in his mind, with no access to his body, but merely within the staggering limitations of his humanity. He couldn't force the demon to release Jordan from the contract any more than he had been able to stop her from making the deal in the first place.

And he had been wrong, before, when he had thought that he could never feel more worthless. All the things that he had done over the years, with his dad and Sam and Jordan and Lyn – all the odds that he, and they, had beaten, and he couldn't save the one thing that was the most important thing in the world.

Dean didn't look back up, just tried to keep his voice from breaking as he asked in a voice so quiet that it was barely audible, "How long?"

Jordan looked down, tears threatening to spill over, as she whispered, "One year."

It was better than Dean had dared hope for, but those two words still sounded like the end of the world. Suddenly he didn't have the strength to sit up anymore and lay back quietly, staring unseeingly at the white tiled ceiling. He wished more than anything that he could just slip back into his coma, as if that would somehow reverse the deal and turn everything back to the way it had been. The way it should be, as far as he was concerned.

A year. He turned that idea over in his head and he liked it less and less each time. What kind of messed up demon would trade the rest of Jordan's life, minus one measly little year, for bringing him out of a coma? How could she even consider that deal!? She didn't get it, she didn't understand. He didn't want to be alive if this was what it meant.

And he could feel the tears stinging his eyes this time as he whispered, "You shouldn't have done it."

"I had to." Jordan suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe. The tears began to fall in rivulets. One year. She'd be leaving him in one year. The full weight of what she had done finally started to press on her shoulders and chest. "You have no idea what it was like, watching you lie there. Dying, slowly."

"Then you should have let me die."

The words were out of Dean's mouth before he was even aware of intending to speak them, but he couldn't say that he regretted them, either. It was exactly what he wished she had done, and he wondered vaguely if, were he to die anyway, the deal would then be nullified. Somehow, he doubted it. Demons were still demons, after all; they wouldn't give up their claim on a hunter that easily. But there had to be some way! He couldn't let himself believe that there wasn't, that this was really going to happen. He couldn't lose Jordan, too.

Jordan looked up at Dean, her eyes showing how hurt she was by his words. "Screw you, Dean Winchester." She turned on her heel and walked out, slamming the door behind her and walking toward the waiting room.


	9. The Aftermath

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Jordan: We're on a roll here! Right Lyn?

Me: Yep! Which means, after much fighting with our muses, we squeezed out _two_ chapters in _one_ day!

Jordan: Which means…

Me: 100 awesomeness!

Jordan: And you guys should 100 _review_!

Me: Because in the chaps we put out today, I've been writing Dean, and I really seriously do wanna know what y'all fans who've been watching the show for longer than I have think.

Jordan: Amen to that…

Me: So review! Pleeeeaseeee!

Jordan: I'll -coughbegrudginglycough- share my HBO with you!

Me: And for those just reading this chapter… which would be odd… HBO is a cereal… which Jordan's addicted to.

Jordan: YAY FOR ACRONYMS!

Both: REVIEW!!

* * *

**Chapter Nine – The Aftermath**

The sound of the slamming door resounded in Dean's head, and after a moment he just closed his eyes because he couldn't look at the door or the empty room any more. It hurt too much. How sad and bitterly ironic that, now that he could feel and see and after it had cost so much for that to happen, he just wanted it to go away.

He would have to be more careful with what he said, Dean thought, if he wanted Jordan to listen. He never wanted her to be hurt, and he definitely didn't want to be the one who caused her pain. God, he was supposed to be the one who _protected_ her, and he had done a _fantastic_ job of that, so far. She was tired, pale, half starved, and now hurt – oh, and let's not forget the deal with the demon. Yes, Dean Winchester was definitely doing a bang-up job of keeping her safe, if you didn't count any of that.

Why did he always screw things up like this, anyway? If he had never gotten involved with her, none of this would have happened. She and Lyn would be somewhere completely different by now. She probably would never have gotten turned into a tiger in the first place. And she would still be happy, and she would have much longer than a year left to live.

She kept saying that he didn't understand, but didn't he? Wasn't he now facing the same prospect, only with a year to wait, and know that it was coming? And why did people keep dying for him!?

But, no, he wasn't going to think that. She wasn't going to die because of him. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he _wasn't_ going to let that happen.

* * *

Sam saw Jordan walk into the waiting room, tears streaming down her face. He nudged Lyn with his elbow, unsure of what to do, but certain that Lyn, of all people, would be the one who did.

A crease appeared between Lyn's eyebrows, and she rose from her seat and approached slowly. "JJ?" she asked quietly, looking her sister up and down. She would have thought Jordan would be ecstatic and bouncing off the walls now that Dean was finally up, and this sudden change in emotion and attitude worried her. "What's the matter?"

"I… I'm sorry, Lyn… I had to. It was the only way! He doesn't understand. I couldn't lose him, I just couldn't! I couldn't let him die. I'm so sorry!" Jordan threw her arms around her sister.

Lyn hugged Jordan back confusedly, trying to decipher what she had said. She was… sorry…? For what? She hadn't done anything – had she? Then the pieces began to click together in Lyn's shocked mind. The only way… because she couldn't lose him… he didn't understand… and she was sorry…

_The only way…_

What little color there was left in Lyn's face drained and, for a second, she thought she might pass out. She shot a horror-stricken glance at Sam over the top of Jordan's head before suddenly pushing her back a little, holding her by the shoulders and meeting her gaze with one of frightened disbelief.

"W-what do you mean, 'the only way'!?" Lyn demanded in a frantic whisper that was an octave or two too high. "What did you – Jordan, you didn't – you wouldn't –"

"He wasn't going to wake up!" Jordan answered, her own voice almost mirroring Lyn's tone. "I just – Please… You have to understand! I'm sorry… I just need you to understand. I need you all to understand. I need him to understand…"

Lyn had to fight hard to keep her breathing under control; it wasn't easy to find a median between forgetting to breathe and hyperventilating. However, that left little attention to focus on keeping her voice level, and so it came near to being a shriek and her words increased in speed until they were almost unrecognizable as she realized that Jordan wasn't denying the half-formed accusation.

"You did!? Jordan, you did! How could you!? That's why he woke up so suddenly and why he was so upset and why the nurses said it was some kind of miracle and you didn't even act surprised and how am I supposed to understand this, Jordan!?"

Sam came up behind Lyn, his eyes sad and shining with unshed tears.

Jordan sucked in a breath and let Lyn's words and the expressions on her sister's and her friend's faces hit her like a freight train. She looked down, closing her eyes, and whispered again, "I'm sorry…"

Lyn suddenly became aware that her hands were still clenched like twin vicegrips around Jordan's shoulders and focused for a moment on releasing that grip and returning her arms to her sides before switching her attention to the attempt to calm her erratic breathing.

She couldn't believe what she was hearing, she didn't want to. She wanted to object and attempt feebly to rationalize, but she didn't trust herself to speak. She would either say something she didn't intend to or suddenly burst out crying – probably both – and so she forced her mind to go blank. She had to keep herself under control, people were starting to stare; and if she didn't calm down, she would probably end up attempting to strangle her sister.

Jordan looked up at Lyn, and her voice was faint as she asked, "Do you hate me?"

Sam let one lone tear fall, which he wiped off his cheek.

Lyn hadn't noticed that she had let her eyes drift out of focus as she stared unseeingly at the top of Jordan's head and tried to gather her thoughts, but they snapped back when Jordan spoke. She would have felt a pang of guilt at the question were it not for the fact that, in the aftermath of her sudden overload of emotion from just a moment ago, she now felt very numb. A small part of her mind realized that, when the feeling came back, it would only be worse; but for the most part, she was just relieved with the temporary wave of serenity that allowed her to think clearly.

The sudden lack of emotion in her voice was unnerving, though, as she tried to force a smile but just came up with a faint twitching of the sides of her mouth and said in a low whisper, "You're my sister. I cannot hate you, whether I agree with your decisions or not."

"I'm sorry… Oh, God… I told him to go screw himself…" Jordan buried her face in her hands.

Sam chuckled. "Back to normal, I guess… Or as normal as it can be…"

"Go talk to him," Lyn advised, still in that low, toneless voice. "He'll understand, when he calms down. Though that may take a while. He won't accept it, but he'll understand. I'm… going to get some air."

She turned then, stepped out from between Jordan and Sam without looking at either one of them, and headed off in the direction of the stairs.

"Sam… wanna come with?" Jordan asked hopefully.

Sam smiled sadly at her. "Sure."

They walked toward Dean's room, Jordan feeling scared at what could happen, and Sam feeling scared at what he knew _would_ happen.


	10. Silent Agreements

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Lyn: So yeah, this is gonna be an even more strange and random A/N than usual. Because I had about three hours' sleep and spent the day cooking and cleaning and trying not to kill the parents of the kids my grandmother babysits for being retarded, freeloading jerks…

Jordan: And I had to sell hot dogs. So review and make us feel better, please!

* * *

**Chapter Ten – Silent Agreements**

By the time the little scene in the waiting room was over, it seemed that every member of the hospital staff had been informed that Dean was awake… and had come to make sure they weren't being lied to. He was starting to feel like some sort of baby zoo animal that everyone had to come goggle at. Really, you'd think they would at least keep their voices down when they whispered about how they never thought he would wake up.

Needless to say, Dean was quite relieved Jordan and Sam returned and the two women who had been staring at him for a good two straight minutes (and whispering not-so-quietly about how amazing it was that he was alive) excused themselves. Not that he normally minded women staring at him; but that was just creepy, and a little insulting.

He wasn't sure whether to be feel relief or dread, though, when he caught the look on Sam's face. It wasn't hard to see that Jordan had already told him, and he felt even worse when he saw that Lyn wasn't with them. He couldn't really blame her, but it still made him feel guilty.

At least Jordan looked a little better, though. There were the marks of dried tears on her face, but her eyes were clear. And, God, she was still beautiful.

"Hey," Dean said slowly, looking from Jordan to Sam and back again. "I, uh… I guess you already talked to them, then…"

"Uh… yeah. How you feelin'? Your color's coming back." Jordan stepped up nervously and sat down on the chair next to Dean's bed, which brought them to eye level.

Sam took a seat in a chair by the door, ready to step in if things got _too_ bad.

A muscle in the side of Dean's face twitched. "I'm fine. I guess demons do good work right up until the killing people part, huh?"

"Dean," Sam said warningly.

Jordan winced noticeably. "I'm glad you're okay," she said softly.

"I'm not _okay_," Dean said quietly. "I'm _alive_. There's a difference, Jordan."

Sam glared at his brother. "Dean, stop."

"It's fine, Sam. I deserve it," Jordan said, her tone unchanging.

"No, it's not fine," Dean said through a clenched jaw. "It's not right, none of this, okay? I'm the one who's supposed to die! I was supposed to die when I got zapped and that preacher's stupid wife shifted the reaper to go after somebody else, I was supposed to die when Dad did, I was supposed to die now, and people keep thinking they can stop it, but you can't! It's supposed to be me, that's why it keeps happening, and I can't watch it happen to you, too!"

"Dean… I'm sorry, okay? … You know what? No, I'm not sorry! You know damn well that if you were the one watching me die slowly in a coma, unable to see anything, talk, or even move, that you would have done the same thing, or tried something _as_ desperate! Or at least I _think_ you would have. So don't start laying all this on me! The only reason I did this is because I love you too much to see you suffer! The only reason your dad did what he did is because he loved you too much! It was a desperate act, and I'd do it again if it meant you'd be okay!" Jordan yelled at Dean, unable to keep her emotions under control any longer.

Sam seemed stunned by her sudden outburst, but he knew that what she said was completely true, and he could hear the hurt in her voice.

"You're not listening to me, Jordan!" Dean shot back earnestly, trying his hardest to make her understand. "Yeah, I know why you did it. Yeah, I probably _would've_ done the same thing. But you keep talking like you think everything's gonna be fine and, in a year, I'm just gonna say goodbye and go back to hunting and living like I always have. _I can't do that this time_, Jordan! I won't!"

"Dean, no. Don't you even try. What's done is done, if you even try to weasel out of the deal, if _any of us_ do, that son of a bitch demon is gonna put you right back in that coma. And also… if you do that… just know that I don't care if you'll be in a coma. I'll still kick your ass."

The corners of Jordan's lips twitched, the slightest of smiles gracing her features. Sam smirked and rolled his eyes; leave it to Jordan to make a joke out of a serious situation.

For once, though, Dean didn't feel like laughing. His eyes were serious and his voice was even. "If what's done can still be undone, then it's not over. I don't care what it takes, I'm not gonna bury or burn anyone else, least of all you. Not if there's a thing left that I can do about it."

"IT CAN'T BE UNDONE! DON'T YOU SEE THAT!? THE ONLY WAY IT CAN BE UNDONE ENDS WITH US BURYING YOU!" Jordan yelled.

Sam came up behind Jordan and put a hand on her arm, which was supposed to calm her down a little bit. Instead, it had the opposite effect. "Sam, get off me! He has to understand!"

"And if it isn't undone, it ends with _me_ burying _you_!" Dean shot back, though his voice didn't really rise much in volume – just intensity. "You're the one who doesn't understand! When I said I don't care what it takes, I meant it. Do you really think I can just live with this? If something were to happen to you while we were on a hunt and I couldn't stop it, that would be bad enough. _That_ would be more than I could deal with. I can't let you do this because of me. Not won't, Jordan – _can't_. Not you."

Despite the seeming strength of his voice, Dean was currently expending most of that strength to keep back tears. Why couldn't she grasp what he kept telling her? Why couldn't she understand that he didn't have a life without her any more, and he didn't _want_ one?

Jordan didn't know what to say. They both had opposite views, both of them selfish. "We're never gonna agree, so let's just not talk about it any more," she said quietly, taking Dean's hand in her own. "Please."

Sam slipped out of the room, seeing he wasn't needed any more and wanting to give them privacy.

Dean met Jordan's gaze and saw in her eyes the same determination that he knew was in his. She was as stubborn and willful as ever – just like him, and probably the only woman alive who could put up with him. The only woman ever. And he could see that she wouldn't give up, and in a way, he took comfort in that. He saw it to mean that, when he did find a way out of this deal for her – and he _would_ – even if the results were as she had said, that she would be able to keep going. Because she was strong and she would keep fighting.

If Dean had known what Lyn and Sam had seen in Jordan's eyes a week ago, he might have come to a different conclusion. But, as it was, he tightened his grip on her hand and nodded slowly. He wouldn't talk about it; but he wouldn't change his mind, either.


	11. Lyn's Girlification

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Jordan: We have something awesome planned…

Me: And we can't –

Jordan: Or _won't_…

Me: -- tell you awesome readers what it is.

Jordan: -gloats-

Me: -shakes head sadly-

Jordan: Now, remember, folks, most of our stories are random. But this next chapter was born out of caffeine and sympathy hyperness. And the insanity we both seem to share.

Me: -nods vehemently-

Jordan: So don't hold it against us, okay? And remember to review!

* * *

**Chapter Eleven – Lyn's Girlification**

_-One Month Later-_

Jordan sat on her bed, staring at Lyn, Dean, and Sam, her eyes flat. Everything had gone back to normal. Or more like the four had not talked about it since the day Dean had gotten out of the hospital. They had taken to bottling up all their feelings and letting them out in the form of stupid jokes and pranks. Well, except for Lyn; she was even quieter than usual lately, and it was starting to drive Jordan nuts.

Lyn, as had become her custom over the past few weeks, was sitting cross-legged on the floor with her nose in a book and her dark hair falling like a screen around her face. This was mostly to mask the fact that her eyes were trained unblinkingly on a single spot on the page; she wasn't reading, just using it as a convenient excuse to pretend to ignore everyone else. She preferred to be left alone with her thoughts, and the common knowledge that she was liable to behead anyone who interrupted her while she was reading served as a pretty good deterrent to conversation.

_We need to do something… something fun. To take our minds off everything._ After thinking for a few minutes, Jordan grinned. "Lyn…" she began, excitement lacing her voice.

Sam and Dean looked up, their eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Lyn took advantage of the silence that followed to turn a page of her book deliberately loudly. She sensed a Jordan plan coming on, and frankly she wasn't in the mood for it. Resisting an urge to sigh heavily, she asked in a purposefully distracted murmur, "Mm?"

Dean and Sam noticed Jordan's expression and started to get more than a little suspicious.

"We should go out… TONIGHT!" She jumped up and ran to her duffel, pulling out a red halter top and a pair of leather pants. She had no idea when or _where_ she got them, but for tonight, she knew they would be perfect.

Dean and Sam shared a look, one that said 'what the hell?' clear as a bell.

Lyn looked up at last and her eyebrows shot up, a shocked and rather revolted expression on her face. "Are you out of your freaking mind!?" she demanded before she had time to think about it. "I haven't gone anywhere on a Friday night since I left Harding, and that was only for the specific purpose of annoying the crap out of Mark, Anna, and Theo. And if you honestly think I'd be caught dead in a getup like that, you've lost your cotton-picking mind."

"Oh, come on! I really wanna go out!" Jordan went into the bathroom, the door slightly cracked. "I don't care if _you_ go. I'm going. And I'm gonna have some fun!"

She came out a few minutes later, dressed in the clothes she had found. Sam's eyebrows rose for a second and then he looked over at Dean, who was flat-out staring, his mouth open and eyes wide.

"Smooooooth," Sam mumbled as he looked away and over to Lyn.

"You _have_ to be freaking kidding me!" Lyn objected, standing up and staring at her sister. "As if there weren't enough pervs and psychopaths in Pierce or Searcy, you want to go out _here_!? By yourself!?" She almost said something about a death wish, but bit it back just in time; that wouldn't have been an appropriate comment, at the moment…

"Yes. Precisely," Jordan answered with a smirk as she pulled on a pair of knee-high leather three-inch heels.

"You're wearing _that_!?" Dean yelled, breaking his silence.

Sam shook his head exasperatedly. "That's what you're worrying about!? We're in BFO, Nebraska, with so many perverts and creeps that, if I had a dollar for every one I saw, I'd be filthy rich, and your girlfriend's about to go out alone, to a bar. Alone."

Jordan's eyebrows shot up as she stared at Dean and Sam, who were staring each other down.

"You are not pulling this," Lyn growled, crossing her arms and glaring at Jordan. "Not this time, Jordan, I'll freaking kill you myself. Dadburn it, _why_ must you always try to goad me into going along with your harebrained ideas!? It's stupid and reckless!"

"Hey… I did _not_ say you had to come. And I didn't say anything about you coming. I said something about you not _having_ to come. If you wanna stay here and read that page for the millionth time instead of coming with me and actually having _some kind of fun_, then, by all means, stay."

Jordan finished her speech with a small intake of breath and a final zip up of her boots. "I'm gonna put on makeup, now."

She got up and walked into the bathroom, carrying a bag full of makeup. Dean and Sam started muttering to each other, arguing quietly so as not to get involved with the girls' fight.

"The crap you didn't!" Lyn objected, stomping after her sister and into the bathroom, leaving her book abandoned on the floor. "You said 'we should go out' and you've been trying to guilt me and make me paranoid ever since, because you know I won't let you go by yourself!"

"If you don't want me going alone, then you'd better change your clothes, sis," Jordan said with a smirk, throwing a denim, middle-of-the-thigh-length skirt and a long, blue baby-doll-type shirt with spaghetti straps at Lyn, who caught them reflexively and then grimaced.

"A skirt? Are you freaking kidding me? Augh… I hate you, Jordan, you know that, right?"

Jordan smiled sweetly. "I love you, too. Now change…" She turned around to let her sister get changed, and Lyn groaned like someone being tortured (which really, in her mind, she kind of was), held up the items she was supposed to be wearing and evaluated them with a scalding look. Heaving a sigh, she dug her cell phone and keys out of her jeans pocket and slammed them down on the bathroom counter a little harder than was strictly necessary. There were several more, metallic-type clinks that followed as some knives that had been hidden followed suit.

_Anyone else on the planet, I'd murder for this. Maybe I should consider not making exceptions to that rule…_

"All right, all right, I'm changed," Lyn grumbled at last, her nose wrinkled as she fidgeted with the end of the skirt she was now wearing in a vain attempt to somehow transform it into something other than a skirt. "I hope you're happy…"

Jordan turned around and her eyes almost popped out of her head. "Daaaamn… You look hot! I can't believe it! YOU HAVE LEGS! … Okay, done now," she relented under Lyn's glare. Then she flashed an evil grin and announced, "All right, let's get some makeup on, shall we? Yeah."

She started closing in on Lyn, holding an eyeliner pencil.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" Lyn cried, holding her hands out, palms forward, as if showing that she had no weapon to an armed gunman. "_Makeup_, Jordan!? I don't _wear_ makeup!"

Jordan whipped out the puppy dog eyes. "Pleeeease? I know you don't wear makeup, but I swear I don't overdo it. Just a _little_?"

Lyn pulled a rather pathetic sort of grimace that made her look like she was about to whine. "Okay, seriously, Jordan?" she grumbled, shifting her defensive stance to just crossing her arms. "Why, _why_ must you torture me?"

Jordan just smiled in response and began applying eyeliner, eyeshadow, blush, and an almost clear lip gloss.

Eyes closed throughout the whole ordeal (and it _was_ an ordeal, for her, at least), Lyn finally heaved a sigh and asked impatiently, "Are you done yet…?"

"Yes… You can open your eyes now, sunshine."

Lyn obliged, rather tentatively, and Jordan's eyebrows automatically shot up. The makeup hadn't changed a thing on her face, more like emphasized her features. Her high cheekbones were now a rosy pink; her naturally full, dark lips were plumped and only slightly shiny; her eyes looked wider; and the eyeshadow was the cherry on top. "You look amazing…"

"But I don't look like Lyn Elumo," Lyn complained halfheartedly, examining her appearance in the bathroom mirror. "I'm all… weird and girlified."

"Just for tonight… And you do look like Lyn Elumo… just… a bit different… now, let's go!" Jordan grabbed Lyn's hand before she had a chance to change her mind and pulled her out of the bathroom.

Dean and Sam's bickering was cut short when Jordan coughed and Sam looked up. Dean followed Sam's gaze and saw… Lyn? A sideways look at his brother showed that Sam seemed to be hypnotized, and Dean half couldn't blame him. Lyn looked so… girly…? Not that he had thought she was butch or anything before, but… she was wearing a skirt!

"Wow…" Sam managed to get out.

Dean leaned into Sam and said, "Dude, you're drooling."

Lyn promptly turned about a half dozen different shades of red. "See, I told you this is a horrible idea," she mumbled, shooting Jordan a dark sort of sideways look.

"Looks like he likes it to me," Jordan mumbled back, smirking. A moment later, she turned her smirk onto Dean, who she walked up to before leaning down and kissing him quickly. Then she grabbed the only purse she owned and shoved her money, cell phone, fake credit cards, and gum inside.

"Come on, Lyn! Stop ogling your beloved and grab your stuff! Whoo, partaayy!" Throwing a grin over her shoulder at the others, Jordan walked out the door.

Sam's eyes never left Lyn; he couldn't believe that it was actually her he was looking at.

"Ugh, I feel like a circus freak," Lyn grumbled. Jordan had forced her into heels, too, and she hadn't worn any in so long that she just knew her feet would all but fall off in the morning. Looking distinctly uncomfortable, Lyn picked up her own purse from where Jordan had left it lying on the bed and put her keys, wallet, and cell phone inside.

Lyn met Sam's gaze and attempted a smile which wound up being rather faint and tentative. "I – uh – I guess we'll be back whenever Jordan decides she's – uh – bored, or whatever…"

She shifted her gaze uncomfortably, brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into her face, and followed Jordan out of the door.

"... Wow…" was just about all that either brother could manage to say.


	12. The Drunken Trials

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Me: Right. So this is the single longest chapter ever in our SPN-fic-writing history. Possibly the longest chap on my FF, I'm not sure.

Jordan: And it's awesome!

Me: Heheheh… Yeah, we had a lot of fun writing this one. I blame sugar and hyperness and caffeine. Namely, tea.

Jordan: Indeed. Earl Grey'll do that to you.

Me: And, of course, our boredom and randomocity.

Jordan: So remember to review and tell us what you think!

* * *

**Chapter Twelve – The Drunken Trials**

"Here you go, ladies," said a voice as a couple of Budweisers appeared in front of Jordan and Lyn. There were a dozen or so empty bottles already on the table in front of them, as well as a couple of shot glasses that smelled of Jack Daniel's.

Lyn grabbed one of the beers and sipped it without a word, staring almost morosely at the dirty wood grain of the table. After a moment, she looked up at Jordan with a crease between her eyebrows and asked seriously, "You ever wonder… why it is… that aaalllllll of these tables… look like somebody broke one too many bottles over 'em?"

Jordan sat, giggling uncontrollably. "'Cause, Lynnie Bear, that's probably what happened!" She grinned and downed half of the lone beer left on the table.

"Hrm," Lyn mused, her accent seeming to thicken by the moment as she twirled her hair around her finger, a strange gesture that was very uncharacteristic. "I dunno, J'rd'n. I mean, it coulda been sumthin' tot'lly diff'r'nt. I mean, nuthin's ever simple, y'know? Always whatcher least s'spectin', y'know?"

"Wow… I so tot'lly see whatcha mean! Like, if I snuck up 'hind Dean and he was all like… 'Oh, itsa dem'n' and he turn'd 'round an' it was jus' me! Right!?" She hiccuped and downed the rest of her beer.

"Tha's true," Lyn admitted, nodding solemnly before suddenly throwing back the beer bottle like a shot glass, emptying it, and slamming it back down on the table. "Bu' Dean, y'know, he's all payruh – purruh – uh… y'know, s'sp'cius-like, anyways…"

"Yeah… tha's true…" Jordan broke off into a fit of giggles. "Wha' d'you thin' Sammy'd do if ya snuck up on him!?" Her eyes widened and she leaned on her hands, waiting for Lyn's answer.

"I d'nno," Lyn said thoughtfully; she seemed to consider that for a moment before looking up as if she had just realized something and pointing a somewhat unsteady finger at Jordan before continuing, "Bu' I kno' this, fer shore. He'd a-pro'ly git all mad atcha fer a-callin' 'im Sammy, y'know…"

Jordan started laughing uncontrollably, which caught the attention of everyone in the small bar, even some unwanted attention from a few wandering eyes. A loud noise rang out, making Jordan flinch. Her cell phone.

"Ar'h –" She opened the phone and held it cautiously to her ear. "H'llo? J'rd'n the lm' -- l'ma… here!" she announced with a bright smile.

"Jordan? Where are you two!?" Dean's voice rang out loud and clear – _too_ loud.

"Deanie Pie! Wh't're you d'in', call'n me at a t'm light th's!?" Jordan yelled back.

Dean stared at Sam with his eyes wide in shock. "Jordan, are you drunk!? Is Lyn with you!?"

Sam stared back and mouthed, 'Drunk!?' as if he couldn't believe what Dean had just said.

Jordan covered the phone with her hand. "Lynnie Bear! Deanie Poo wan's t' know 'f y're he'r wit' me!"

"Oh, lemme talkta 'im, then!" Lyn ordered, snatching the phone out of Jordan's hand and nearly slicing the back of said hand open with her fingernails.

"'Lo, Dean?"

"Lyn?" Dean's voice asked, rising in volume again in surprise.

"Well, yeh! I mean, ya asked J'rd'n ta talkta me, so o' 'course i's me, ya idget…"

Dean held the phone at arm's length and stared at it for a minute before handing it to Sam. "Here, I think maybe you'd better talk to her."

"'Lo, Dean? Deeeaannnn! Didja get ea'en by sum'thin'!?" Lyn was calling when Sam put the phone to his ear.

"Wha'!? My Deanie Poo g't ea'en by sum'thin'!?" Jordan gasped in surprise and nearly fell out of her chair.

Dean stared at Sam. "What's happening!?"

"They're – I think they're drunk!" Sam said disbelievingly.

"Dr – crap! They took Lyn's car! No way in hell they can get home without crashing it, which they will both more than regret in the morning. Son of a bitch… We gotta get over there… _soon_!" Dean whisper-yelled at Sam.

"Oh! 'Ello, Sammeh!" Lyn cried. "Where'd Dean go? 'Cuz he wuz a-talkin' an' then he wuz gawn an' like J'rd'n thin's tha' he got ea'en ur sum'thin'…"

"He's right here," Sam began, "but –"

"Don' wurry, J'rd'n!" Lyn said happily. "Dean's okay, he's a-wi' Sammeh!"

"Y'a!" Jordan yelled out, so loud that the bartender started to walk over to them. "Lynnie Bear… I'ma st'rt'n t' th'nk th'y dun't w'nt 's here no m're…" She acquired a serious expression that didn't reach her eyes, which still sparkled with unheard laughter.

"Hummmm, I d'nno, J'rd'n," Lyn said, nearly dropping the phone as she turned around in her chair to look at the aforementioned bartender. "Heza lookin' reeeeeaaaaaal grumpy, tho'!"

"Lyn, how much have you been drinking!?" Sam asked, shocked.

"A li'l, I guess," Lyn admitted. "Whuzza diff'r'nce, ennyways, Sammeh?"

"And who's looking grumpy!? What's going on!?"

"Ummmm… I d'nno… Hold on, lemme ask!" Lyn said brightly, then covered the phone with her hand and cocked her head sideways at the bartender, who had stopped at their table. "Whazzup, rand'm guy?"

"Come on, ladies – time to leave," said the bartender, motioning toward the door.

Jordan gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with her hand. "Heeza makin' us leave, Lynnie Bear!"

"Sam, what's happening!? All I can hear is yelling!" Dean said, holding his car keys in his hand.

"Lyn, listen to me," Sam said loudly, to catch Lyn's attention again. "_Where are you_?"

"Well, Ima sittin' atta table, bu' th's guy's a-makin' us leave…"

"No, don't leave!" Sam almost yelled. "Tell me where you are and stay there!"

"I toldja, heza makin' us leave!" Lyn yelled right back, somewhat louder than she had intended. Not that she noticed. "Ain't nob'dy here nice az they wuz a' home, y'know, they jus' up an' make ya leave fer no gud reezun…"

Jordan got up and, after a lot of stumbling, finally made it to the door with Lyn behind her. "Imma keel th'm… Mak'n us leave fer no gud reezun…" She turned around and glared at the bartender.

"They're leaving!? Make them stay! Come on, we've gotta get going – did they tell you where they are!?" Dean asked, pulling on his leather jacket and checking to be sure he had all his things before opening the door and running to the Impala, followed by Sam. They got in and sped off, Sam still listening to Lyn and Jordan's faint drunken babbling.

"Heywhuzzatoverdere?" Lyn asked, shoving Jordan in the shoulder, nearly knocking her over, and pointing at a pedestrian crossing sign in front of the bar. "Whozis Ped Zing guy, ennyways?"

"Ped Ex-ing… guy…" Jordan's eyes grew wide. "I… uh… seen th's b'ck in Pi'rce!" She ran to it, tripping and falling, and hitting her head on the ground. A fit of giggles erupted two seconds later. "Whoo's! Gess th' grownd jump'd up 'n' bit meh!"

"Sam! Talk to them!" Dean yelled at Sam, going 80 toward the closer of the two bars in town.

"They're not even listening!" Sam objected, half exasperatedly and half worriedly. "What am I supposed to say!?"

"Ohmygosh, J'rd'n, izzu a'ri't!?" Lyn shrieked at the top of her lungs, dropping the phone and grabbing Jordan's shoulder, but only succeeding in falling to the concrete, too. "Izda grawnd bein' p'ss'ss'ss'd baiya dem'n!?"

"Lyn!?" Sam yelled into the phone. "Lyn, what happened!? Lyn!"

"Sam! What the hell happened!? Are they okay!? Tell them we're about two minutes away from them!" Dean picked up speed.

"Lynnie Bear! Izz _youz_ okay!?" Jordan tried to sit up, but only succeeded in tangling them up even more. She finally rested her head down next to Lyn's and said, "I lovez you, Lynnie Bear… I'd pro'lly die w'thout you…" She hugged her sister tight.

"I d'nno, J'rd'n," Lyn said slowly, sounding suddenly sad. "I'z a-not doin' sucha gud job a' th' keepin' you 'live 'n' stuff, no morez. I mean… I di'n' even keep you from fallin', an'… an'… I can' even fin' th' dem'n tha'z p'ss'ss'ss'ss'n da grawnd!"

"Lyn, are you there!? Lyn! We're almost there, okay!? Don't. Drive!" The words were faint, coming from the cell phone which lay several feet away. And, the way Lyn's and Jordan's ears were currently ringing, they barely even registered a buzzing sound from that general direction.

"S'okay, Lynnie Bear," Jordan said, resting her head on Lyn's shoulder as she spoke. "Ll' finda way out'f it… Deanie Poo'll help too! Like… a p'rty!"

"Augh, she's not talking!" Sam yelled in frustration, slamming his hand onto the door of the Impala. "She yelled something and then she must have lost the phone or threw it or something stupid. I knew this was a bad idea! We should have gone with them!"

"We're here, Sam," Dean announced before quickly parking the car and getting out. That was when he spotted Lyn and Jordan lying on the concrete, Jordan hugging Lyn and Lyn looking forlorn. "Uh… Sam…" He pointed toward them, one eyebrow raised.

Sam stared, not quite able to grasp the concept that this was Lyn and Jordan and completely unable to comprehend what in the world they were doing lying on the concrete in front of a pedestrian crossing sign. "Lyn? Jordan?" he asked tentatively before approaching. "Are you okay…?"

"Whoza sayin' tha'!?" Lyn demanded suddenly, raising her head and pulling something out of her purse to point threateningly into the darkness. Then her eyes widened when she figured out who it was and she nudged Jordan's shoulder with her other hand. "Oh, lookit, izza Sammeh 'n' Dean. Hiiiii, Sammeh 'n' Dean! Youza wanna be careful, tho', y'kno', a-'cause I mighta stabbed ya ur sum'thin', y'know, fer sneakin' up awn us li' tha'."

Suddenly she seemed to remember something and brightened, lowering the comb that she had been pointing threateningly at them and saying, "Hey, Sammeh, tha' remin'z me! J'rd'n wuzza wan'in' ta kno' wha' wudda happun'd if'n I'da sneaked up 'hindja wi'outja knowin', 'cuz we figgered 'f J'rd'n'd snuck up 'hind Dean, he'da tho't she wuzza dem'n… Wudja tho't I'za dem'n, Sammeh?"

"Deanie Bear! Sammeh! When didjoo get hur?" Jordan got up and started stumbling toward Dean and Sam. She tripped and almost fell, but Dean caught her and held her up. He shot a look over at Sam, eyes wide and brow furrowed, as Jordan went on, "See… th' grawnd… it j'mped up and beet me. I'ma think'n the grawnd 's po'ss'ss'ss'd!"

Sam was shocked speechless as he looked back and forth between Dean and Jordan and Lyn, but it didn't really matter, because Lyn chose that moment to attempt to sit up, fall back down, and let out a strangled yell. "Th' dem'n 'n the grawnd, izgot me!" she bellowed. "Izgot me baida hair, J'rd'n! Runnaways, runnaways faaarrrr far aways an' don' come back wi'out holy wa'er an' exachisma books!"

"Noes! Sammeh! Deanie Poo! Yous gotsta save Lynnie Bear! Get your exachisma book an' do one of 'em!" Jordan pulled away from Dean and stumbled over to Lyn, kneeling down and hitting the 'demon.'

"Holy shit, Sam… What're we supposed to – Wait, why does Jordan have an accent?" Dean asked disbelievingly.

"Uh… well, she _did_ grow up in the same place as Lyn, I guess she just… lost hers, until she got drunk, and Lyn didn't?" Sam said slowly as he stared at the girls strangely. "I mean, Lyn's is worse, I guess it makes sense that Jordan would get hers _back_… And, uh… well, I guess I'm gonna try to get her hair untangled from the post of that street sign before she scalps herself and you're gonna make up an exorcism for 'ground demons.'"

"NOOOOES!" Lyn yelled, trying to shove Jordan away. "Runnaways, runnaways! A'fore th' dem'n getschu too! Sammeh, gettaway!" she continued to rant as Sam approached, trying to figure out how to calm her down so he could get her away from the signpost without cutting a chunk out of her hair, for which she would surely murder him in the morning. "Gettaways! Youza nawt gonna get got baida dem'n! Iza not gonna letcha!"

Dean approached Jordan. "Jordan… it's time to back up. If we're gonna exorcise the ground demon, you're gonna have to stand back so you won't get hurt."

He pulled her up and led her backwards. She held onto him, saying, "Deanie Poo! Yur so nice! So strong! I loves you, Deanie Poo!"

Jordan wrapped her arms around Dean's neck and kissed his cheek, jaw, and neck, much to his amusement and happiness.

"Lyn – Lyn, calm down for a minute!" Sam said earnestly, attempting to hold her still so she wouldn't yank her hair off while thrashing around.

"Butda dem'n, i'z _here_!" Lyn argued, hitting him in the head by accident as she tried to shake his shoulders to make him listen. "I'z _here_, Sammeh, ya gotsta gettaways!"

"No, it's – uh – look, I'll draw a circle, see?" Sam said, and Lyn paused in randomly wriggling around long enough to gaze at him, wide-eyed, as he traced a random design on the pavement with his finger. "See, now the demon can't do anything, and if you'll be still for a minute, we'll go over there and Dean will exorcise it, okay?"

"Ooh, gud plan!" Lyn said with an exaggerated gasp. "Youza so smart, Sammeh…" She gave a huge, crooked grin and then suddenly went totally limp.

"Sam – Jordan, quit it – is she okay!? Did she pass out!?" Dean asked as he tried to keep Jordan from jumping him. She just broke into a fit of giggles and tried harder.

"Nooooo," Lyn trilled as if she were about to burst into song, but still without moving. "Jus' bein' veeeeeerryy stiiiiillllllll…"

Sam shook his head, muttered something unintelligible under his breath, and finally managed to free Lyn's hair from the metal signpost. "Okay," he said, tugging on her arm. "You can get up now, let's go."

"Bu' whaddabout da dem'n!?" Lyn demanded as Sam pulled her to her feet. "We gotsta do sum'thin' abou' th' dem'n!"

"We will… But I don't want you to get hurt if the demon starts to get violent and mad," Sam explained, pulling Lyn toward Dean and Lyn.

"Deeeeeeeeannie Pooo! I loves youz!" Jordan said in a sing-song voice as she jumped onto Dean's back. "Pig'eh back ri'!"

Dean easily caught her. "Fine… I'll give you a piggy back ride."

"NOES!" Lyn bellowed, grabbing Sam's arm and shaking it while staring wide-eyed at Dean. "You can'st! You gotsta extrastormacize th' dem'n, Sammeh sed you wuz gonna extramatide th' dem'n! Make 'im extormadice th' dem'n, Sammeh!"

"Er, right, Dean," Sam said slowly. "You should probably, er, recite that exorcism… for ground demons… Remember, uh, the exorcism… we were talking about earlier…?"

"Right… er – exornatumus ti, notalus fernalis, tonatus junaues, fernue," Dean finished, glancing at Sam.

"Deanieeee Poo! Yousa did it! Th' dem'n's gone!" Jordan hugged Dean's neck tightly from her spot on his back.

"Wunndat s'posta be li' 'ferus'?" Lyn wondered, nearly falling over and bumping into Sam. "Dat don' soun' li' Latin, y'kno', Sammeh…"

"It's, uh, an older kind of Latin," Sam invented, keeping a hold on her shoulders to stop her from falling over again. "Very little known, but, uh, very powerful…"

"Ah, yah, I see," Lyn agreed, nodding. "'s li' Cherokee, kinda? Nots menny peoples knows 'bout it but they's still exarchasmas innit, righ'…?"

"Uh… sure," Sam said slowly, blinking as he tried to decipher what she had said. "But, look, we should, uh – get out of here, you know, before, uh, any more… _ground demons_ show up…"

"Tru', tru'," Lyn said, nodding seriously. "A'cause they's real terr'tor'ul-like, them grawnd dem'ns, y'kno'…"

Jordan smacked Dean's shoulder and ordered, "Giddehyup, hors – horsie!"

Dean rolled his eyes and started walking toward the Impala, while Jordan started giggling for what felt like the millionth time that night.

"Oh, bu' weza furgettin'!" Lyn said suddenly, looking around and blinking. "Th' grawnd dem'n, i' stoled J'rd'n's phone! … Di' J'rd'n's phone get blowed up when Dean exormaticated th' dem'n, Sammeh?"

"Uh… where was it… when the demon stole it?" Sam asked uncertainly, looking around and attempting to locate the cell phone in the glow of the neon lights from the bar. " Uh…" He shot a look at Lyn, who was swaying dangerously close to keeling over, and asked, "Can you… stand…?"

"Well, I _am_ a-standin', silly Sammeh," Lyn said, rolling her eyes. Then she doubled over, laughing, and Sam had to catch her to keep her from falling. "Silly Sammeh," she choked out through her laughter. "Thassan alla-terra-rashun thing, y'kno'…"

"Sammy, hurry the hell up!" Dean yelled from the car, where he was closing the back door to keep a very giggly Jordan inside. "We gotta get them home before the after-effects of the amount of booze they downed in that bar catches up to them!"

"Jordan's lost her phone!" Sam yelled back exasperatedly. "You look for it, I've gotta find Lyn's car and get the keys from her. This part of town, there won't be anything left by morning but a stripped frame, otherwise…"

"'Ey, no yellin', Sammeh!" Lyn complained. "'S not _nice_, an' i' makes mah head hurt…"

"All right, I'm sorry," Sam apologized, frowning. "Lyn, where did you park your car?"

Lyn blinked. "I d'nno, Sammeh; whar _did_ I park mah car?"

"Sam, it's over there!" Dean announced, pointing toward Lyn's car, which was parked across the lot from the Impala.

"Deeeeeeeanie!" Jordan called, her face pressed against the back window of the Impala. "Come in the back seat with meeee!"

"Lyn, where are your keys?" Sam asked as he half dragged and half carried Lyn across the parking lot toward her car.

"Ummmm… Oh! They'z in mah purse! … But, why, Sammeh?"

"I need them; can I borrow them for a second?"

"Youz not a-gettin' my keys!" Lyn objected. "Ain't nobuddy drives mah car bu' me, an I cain'…" She tugged on Sam's collar and whispered as if sharing a great secret, "See, I kinda hadda few drinks…"

"No kidding," Sam muttered, shaking his head and at the same time feeling like chuckling and mentioning something about stating the obvious. "But you can't leave your car here, I need the keys."

"YOU CAN'ST HAVE MY KEYS!" Lyn yelled, trying to pull away but failing miserably in her drunken clumsiness.

Jordan pushed open the door and pulled Dean into the back seat, pushing him on his back and getting on top of him. "Hai, Deanie Poo… I kinda gots a li'l tipsy turvy t'night…" She grinned at him.

"'A little' might be an understatement," Dean said, smirking. "But you need to sit in the car and wait, now – I'll go find your phone and then we can go, okay?"

"Nuh uh, uh uh… You gon' wait wit' me… Sammeh c'n find th' phone…" Jordan leaned down and pressed her lips to Dean's.

Meanwhile, Sam was trying to convince Lyn to give him her car keys. "Lyn… I'm not gonna drive your car. I just need to take the keys from you so you don't drive. You might get hurt if you try." He hated lying to Lyn, but he _needed_ to get her car keys. He knew that if they left her car here overnight, it would either be stolen or stripped bare.

"Liar liar liar liar!" Lyn accused, poking Sam in the chest. "Youza a hor'ble liar, Sammeh. I ain't a-gonna drive nowheres and ya knows tha', so youza lyin' ta me, Sammeh! Why'z you a-lyin'!? Don'ts make me sing ya the liars' song…"

"Mnph – Jordan –" Dean objected, pushing her back with his mind reeling from the force of her kiss. When he had collected his thoughts again, he continued, "Look, Jordan, you're _drunk_! You have to let me find your phone and take you back to the motel, all right?"

Jordan giggled. "I toldja, Deanie! Sammeh'll find my phone!" She leaned forward, placing a hand on each side of Dean's head, and pouted.

"Sam is trying to get Lyn's keys so she won't be able to drive!" Dean countered. "He won't have time to find your phone, and somebody could step on it in the dark. And you need to get back to the motel before your hangover starts to kick in."

Sam sighed. "Lyn… I really don't want to have to take your keys away from you… by force. So can I please have the keys!?"

He started to close in on Lyn, who backed away with wide eyes and grabbed something out of her purse. A moment later, she was pointing her cell phone at him like a weapon; then she blinked at it confusedly and muttered, "Y'kno', I don' 'memb'r tha' bein' so… naht shiny…"

Sam backed Lyn into her car, one eyebrow raised. "A cell phone, Lyn? Really?" He reached into Lyn's purse, undetected, and pulled her keys from it, pushing them into his pocket.

Lyn continued to stare at the object in her hand with a confused look and finally objected, "Bu' tha's naht s'posta be a cell phone…"

Jordan smirked drunkenly and leaned back down, kissing a trail from Dean's neck, to his ear where she paused to nibble at his earlobe, then down his jaw, nipping every once in a while.

"Jor – Jordan, stop. Seriously, Jordan, st – cut it out!" Dean finally managed to push her off of him and retreat from the car, shaking his head. God, she was too good at that; but at least he could think… somewhat clearly, now. "Just stay here," he told her, trying to sound firm and at the same time keep from making her cry since she was already drunk.

"Deeeannnnie! Come back!" Jordan's lower lip trembled. She now lay on her stomach in the back of the car, propped up on her elbows.

"Well, it is… Now, let's get you in the car." Sam unlocked the Grand Am and guided Lyn into the back seat. She didn't argue; she was still gazing at the phone and looking bewildered.

"Bu' i' was'posta be sum'thin' else… y'kno', all shiny and pointy and I kno' i' wuz in mah purse…"

Dean fought back a groan at the look on Jordan's face. Why did she have to pull the hurt look and make him feel guilty, anyway? "Please, just stay here! I'll go find your phone and I'll be right back, okay? I promise, I'll be _right back_."

"'Kay," Jordan agreed amiably. "But ifya don' come back… Imma come ou' there lookin' fer ya…" She finished with a serious expression, but this was followed by another string of giggles.

"I'll come back," Dean promised. "Just stay here and give me one minute and I'll be right back." He wasn't entirely sure if he could trust her to stay in the car, but he turned away slowly and, looking over his shoulder several times as he did so, proceeded to search the pavement near the pedestrian crossing sign for the cell phone.

"A knife, Lyn?" Sam asked, getting her situated and handing her a bag in case she threw up.

"Oh, yeaaah! That!" Lyn said brightly, picking up her purse again and putting her cell phone back inside it before beginning to rummage around inside it again. "I's innere somewheres, I know i'…"

Sam grabbed Lyn's wrist to stop her, knowing that if she could get hurt just walking, she could do a lot of damage with a knife. "That's okay… I believe you. I'm just gonna go check on Dean… and find Jordan's cell phone. Stay here, okay?" He got out of the back seat and shut the door, locking it just in case.

Jordan sat in the back seat, bored, humming what sounded like a cross between AC/DC's Highway to Hell and Metallica's Enter Sandman. _Lalalalala…_ she thought to herself. Then, upon catching sight of the front seat, she grinned. "C'mere, front sea'…"

She climbed into the front and started fiddling with several buttons. "Turn 'n… turn 'n… Why won' you turn 'n!?" She got frustrated and smacked the steering wheel with her hand, which caused the horn to beep, making her ears ring.

Lyn, on the other hand, was falling back on her standard for when she was bored: pressing random buttons on her cell phone and watching the colors flash. It was pretty fun, except that occasionally it would make a really loud noise that would make her head hurt…

Dean's head snapped up at hearing the Impala's horn going off. Wait, he had left Jordan in the _back_ seat. Argh, what was she doing!? "Jordan!" he yelled, turning back toward his car. "Get back in the back seat and don't _touch_ anything!"

Jordan heard the faint sound of Dean yelling at her, but she paid it no mind. "Tha' was loud…" She pushed the steering wheel again, and giggled when it emitted the same sound, even though it made her head throb even more.

"Dean… do you see it!? I can't find it anywhere!" Sam said, scared that someone had already stolen it. Knowing Jordan, she would be pissed in the morning.

"Jordan!" Dean yelled exasperatedly, ignoring Sam and stalking off toward the Impala. "Stop that right now!"

However, the Impala's horn blaring had given Lyn an idea. Grinning madly, she dropped her phone back in her purse and climbed into the driver's seat of her own car. She then slammed the palm of her hand against its steering wheel, tapping out 'Hello' in Morse code before collapsing over the wheel, laughing.

Jordan started laughing at Lyn's antics with the horn in the other car. She heard Dean coming closer, and tapped out 'shave and a haircut' on the horn.

Sam's head snapped toward Lyn's car, and he smirked to see Lyn in the front of the car, head bent over the steering wheel, laughing. He looked around one final time for the phone before turning and walking back to the Grand Am, still smirking.

Lyn slammed out a long 'two bits' in response to Jordan's tapping on the wheel. It was a bit late, but it wasn't like she had the best reflexes at the moment. Needless to say, it was only a moment before she was laughing uncontrollably again and all but hyperventilating.

"Jordan, stop it and get back in the back seat!" Dean said as he opened the front door of the Impala and crossed his arms at her. "We're never going to find your phone at this rate!"

Jordan looked up at Dean innocently, but there was lust in her eyes. _He's perrrrty…_ she thought to herself. "Well… I coul'n't kiss ya… so I figgered… this's almost as fun…" She grinned up at him and pressed her palm against the horn again.

Dean caught Jordan's arm and pulled it away from the horn impatiently. "Jordan, _stop_," he repeated calmly but seriously.

Sam knocked on the front driver's side window of Lyn's car, unlocking the door as he did so.

"'Ello, Sammeh!" she choked out, trying to open the door but laughing so hard that, when it swung out, she fell out of it.

"Whoa! … Having fun?" Sam asked as he caught her easily and pulled her up.

Lyn collapsed against his shoulder, laughing stifled somewhat now by lack of air. After a moment, she straightened up, still grinning crookedly, and cried, "Tha' was fun! Le's do it ag'in!"

Jordan looked up at Dean through her eyelashes and then stood up, pressing herself against him and hitting the horn with her free hand. She grinned and started giggling again, still pressed firmly against the tall man in front of her.

Dean sighed heavily and pulled back – then, before Jordan could move or object, he swept her legs out from under her and picked her up. After unlocking the back door again, he (again) put her carefully into the back seat. "Now, _stay_, Jordan," he said emphatically.

"Tha' wasn' niiiice…" Jordan pouted and huffed, folding her arms in front of her.

Dean smirked. "Just stay here and _try_ not to destroy my car, all right?" He bent forward and kissed her on the forehead before locking and closing the doors again and walking off to look for the phone, shaking his head as he went.

"Maybe later, Lyn… Right now, we have to find Jordan's cell phone. Now, don't cause _too_ much trouble, okay?" Sam put her back in the front seat, closed the door, and walked off toward the pedestrian crossing sign again.

"Fine," Lyn muttered, crossing her arms. Then she brightened and grabbed her cell phone again. "Time ta play wi' pretty lights!" she said enthusiastically and, again, began grinning madly.

Jordan waited until Dean was out of sight and jumped back into the front seat. She looked around and spotted… Dean's cell phone. She grinned and picked it up, calling Lyn. "Imma callin' Lynnie Bear… Imma callin' Lynnie Bear…"

"I don't see it, Dean," Sam said from where he was kneeling on the ground.

"It has to be here somewhere," Dean said, squinting at the ground. "I mean, nobody's been by here since we showed up… Think someone could've taken it before we got here and they wouldn't have noticed?" He chuckled for a second and muttered, "They're wasted, of course someone could have, that was a stupid question…"

Lyn shrieked when the phone suddenly began to ring and Sweet Child o' Mine by Guns 'n' Roses resounded through the car. She pressed several buttons before she figured out the right one to answer, and then she half gasped and half squealed, "J'rd'n!?"

"Lynnie Bear! Deanie Poo pick'd me up'n put me 'n the back seat! Then I got on top 'f hmm… I kisseded hmm… Th'n he yel'd at me…" Jordan giggled through the phone.

"Whar'd Dean'n Sammeh go ennyways?" Lyn wondered thoughtfully. "Sammeh sed sum'thin' 'bout findin' yer cell phone, bu' th' dem'n stoled yer cell phone, dinnit?" She paused there and suddenly went very wide-eyed. "Wait, you'z callin' me from a cell phone! Ohmuhgawd, are you th' grawnd dem'n!?"

"No, sillyyy! Deanie Poo leff it 'n here! Deanie Poo sed he'z gon' find my cell phone… Wann' honk th' horn!?" Jordan said, her voice excited.

Lyn responded by collapsing in laughter again, her head hitting the steering wheel and causing the horn to go off.

Jordan laughed hysterically and honked the Impala's horn. Lyn's car horn and Dean's car horn mingled together into one very _loud_ sound.

Sam smirked and started laughing. "They're at it again."

Dean groaned. "She's gonna destroy my car before this is over, isn't she?" he asked miserably. "At least Lyn's messing with her _own_ car…"

Lyn sat up, still grinning like a fool, and began banging randomly on the horn while shouting into her cell phone, "This's so tot'lly AWWWW'SUMMM!"

"She probably will, Dean," Sam told his brother, grinning like a hyena.

"It so tot'lly is AWWWW'SUMM!" Jordan yelled back as she started to bang out the beat of Led Zeppelin's _The Immigrant Song_.

"Hey! You! Those girls your girlfriends!?" the 'evil bartender from Hell,' as the girls had dubbed him, yelled at Sam and Dean.

Dean turned around to face said bartender, his eyebrows furrowed but trying not to glare. Yet. "Yeah," he said coolly. "What of it?"

Inside her Grand Am, Lyn hissed into the phone, "Itzda eeeeviiiilllll dude who made us leave fer no gud reezun!" and began tapping out 'go away, evil scumbag' in Morse code with the horn.

Jordan gasped and tapped out 'Dun dun dunnnnnn' on the horn.

Sam's glare turned into a smirk when he heard the girls in the cars honking the horns. He distinctly recognized both 'Go away, evil scumbag' in Morse code from Lyn's car and 'Dun dun dunnnnnn' from Dean's.

The 'evil bartender from Hell' glared in the direction of the noise. "Well, wouldja shut 'em up!? They're making one hell of a racket!"

"Why, I don't believe they're speaking," Dean said with a sarcastic smile. "That _racket_ would be our cars. But don't worry, we'll be taking those and leaving as soon as we find a certain lost cell phone. So you can scurry on back into your little rat hole now."

The 'evil bartender from Hell' went back into the bar, slamming the door as he went. Sam grinned when he heard the yells and whoops of the girls from the cars.

"Okay… it's not here. I seriously think somebody stole it," he said at last, looking at the pedestrian crossing sign.

"Probably the squinty-eyed rat face, there," Dean growled, glaring at the bar. "Wouldn't put it past him…"

"Come on… Let's get them home. Those hangovers should start to set in pretty soon," Sam said as he started walking.

"Wheeeee!" Lyn cackled as she pressed a load of random buttons on her cell phone. "Pretty colooorrrsss!" She accidentally hung up on Jordan, then shouted her name into the phone. "J'rd'n? J'RD'NN!" As she saw Sam approaching the car, she looked out at him with a sad expression and declared, "I thin' anuther grawnd dem'n got J'rd'n…"

Dean just shook his head, tried not to think about how ticked Jordan would be in the morning, and walked back toward the Impala.

"It's okay… She's still in Dean's car. No ground demons are gonna get her, don't you worry. Why don't you climb back in the back seat and buckle your seatbelt, huh?" Sam asked, opening the driver's side door.

Lyn looked sideways at him suspiciously. "Sammeh, you sed you wuzzun gonna lie ta me, an' you sed you wuzzun gonna drive mah car. So why'd I needta buckle up if'n you aren' drivin' nowheres?"

"Deanie Poo! I di'n't stay in the back seat," Jordan said, looking at him with wide eyes.

Dean chuckled. "I kind of figured that out, what with the horn going off and all. Just get in the back seat now, okay? And buckle up. I'm gonna take you back to the motel so you can get some rest."

"Okay, Deanie Poo!" Jordan did as she was told, with some difficulty. "Deanie… I c'n't buck – uck – buck'l…" she said, struggling to get her seatbelt buckled.

Dean sighed and opened the back door to help her. "Just no jumping me, this time," he muttered under his breath.

Jordan grinned. "No prom'ses…" She bit her bottom lip. _God… He's sexy…_

"Lyn, I'm gonna _need_ to drive your car," Sam said, looking her in the eyes. "Dean told me to. Do you want your car stolen or taken apart?"

"Well, no, Sammeh, bu'… bu'… you _lied_…" Lyn whispered in an almost horrified tone, gazing at him with wide green eyes that brimmed with tears.

"I'm sorry, Lyn… I had to. I promise I'll never lie to you. Ever again. I love you. Please don't cry," Sam said, guilt washing over him as he reached out to Lyn's face to wipe the tears away from her eyes with his thumb.

Lyn nearly fell out of the car again as she abruptly lunged forward and hugged Sam around the waist. "Mmkay," she sniffled, then, just as suddenly as before, pulled back, jumped over the seat and fell face-first into the back floorboard.

"'M okay!" she yelled into the upholstery.

Sam could barely contain his laughter as he opened the back door and helped Lyn sit properly in her seat and get buckled up. "Tell me if you feel like you're gonna throw up, okay?"

"I'z jus' fine," Lyn promised. "An' I c'n mash the purdy but'ns on my cell phone!"

Sam smiled. "Good. Have fun, Lyn," he told her as he closed the door and slid into the driver's seat.

Jordan's seatbelt finally clicked into place and Dean kissed the top of her head before saying, "Okay, there you go. Now… _please_ tell me if you feel like you're getting sick, okay?"

Jordan didn't answer; she snaked her hand around Dean's neck and pulled him to her, kissing him with such passion that it made her own head spin.

It was a moment before Dean regained his senses enough to be able to pull back, and when he did, he had to work at it to keep his breathing even. His eyes were alive with passion, but he kept his voice calm as he pointed out, "I asked you not to do that."

"S'ry… Coul'n't help it," Jordan said, her cheeks flushed.

"All right, Jordan, just stay in your seat," Dean told her before closing the door. He leaned against the Impala for a moment, let out a sharp breath that sounded like 'whew!' and shook his head before getting behind the wheel.

* * *

By the time they got back to the motel, Jordan was half delirious with sickness and exhaustion and half very much awake with a _very_ keen desire to jump Dean. Lyn, on the other hand, was near to hyperventilation with laughter as she muttered something about the _real_ reason they put streetlamps on city streets.

"Okay, Jordan, we're here," Dean announced as he turned the engine off and turned around to check that she was still conscious. She was, though he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Shaking his head, he got out and opened the door for her. "Uh, can you walk?" he asked uncertainly.

Jordan grinned as flirtatiously as an extremely drunk person can. "'F course I can, De…" She got up, holding onto Dean's arm, and successfully, surprisingly, got out of the car without falling.

"Doing good so far," Dean encouraged, watching her intently so that he could catch her if she stumbled. "Just don't fall… it's not that far…"

Jordan's ankle buckled and she fell into Dean, her hands shooting out to steady herself and finding solace on Dean's chest. She giggled and looked up at him, her smile never leaving her face.

"I got you," Dean assured her, holding her steady with one hand on her shoulder and one on her waist. "Do you want me to carry you the rest of the way? You're probably gonna break your ankle, otherwise…"

"Mkay, De," she said wistfully, her eyes never leaving his. Dean half smiled at her tone as he picked her up bridal-style and carried her the remainder of the distance to the motel room. The harder part was managing to unlock the door while still carrying her, but that he managed, too, and finally put her down on the bed, carefully so as not to jostle her head or stomach. Whether she had a hangover yet was unclear, but he didn't want to make her sick.

Jordan grabbed Dean's shoulders and pulled him onto the bed with her. "De… Lay with me…" she said and pulled him to her side, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Dean sighed and agreed. "All right, all right. But nothing funny, Jordan, you're still really drunk."

Jordan grinned mischievously and tangled her legs with his, resting her head on his chest. "Than's, De… 'nd 'm not that drunk… Y'know… fer some weird r's'n… I r'lly wanna jump ya…"

Dean chuckled quietly. "Yes, Jordan, you _are_ that drunk. And that's _why_, too."

"Nuh uh… 'S 'cause you's were in th' cohm – somethin'… 'N I mist ya… Then evr'thin' was weird… 'n I want'd thin's ta go back ta norm'l," Jordan murmured, snuggling into Dean's side and holding him tighter, as if afraid he might disappear.

For a moment, that proclamation left Dean speechless. His eyes turned sad as he gently stroked her hair and murmured in a low voice to himself, "I wish it could, too, Jordan… but it can't be normal, like this… We can pretend it is… but that doesn't change anything."

"De… Kiss me?" Jordan asked, looking up at him.

As he looked down at her, half surprised by the seemingly random request, Dean hesitated. He didn't have an excuse like drunkenness for the way he felt at that point, but then again, he never did. He stared down at her for a moment, trying to memorize the pattern of the gold flecks in her deep brown eyes as if he thought he might never see them again, and then slowly leaned over and pressed his lips gently to hers. Her breath smelled strongly of alcohol, but as he traced the side of her face with the very tips of his fingers, that fact didn't bother him.

Jordan snaked her hand around to the back of his neck, the other hand on his waist, pulling him closer as his eyes fluttered shut. He didn't fight her on this, but after a few more long seconds, Dean pulled back, resisting her grip on his neck and breaking away. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and than placed a fingertip on her lips.

"I agreed to kiss you, Jordan," he said quietly. "But you are still drunk, and you mean more to me than that. That's _all_ I'm going to do tonight."

Jordan nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. "S'rry, De… I –

Her eyes went wide and she suddenly got up, stumbling to the bathroom and making it just in time to throw up in the toilet. Dean followed silently, mostly to be sure she didn't fall and crack her head open on the sink or something, and gently rubbed his hand across her back as she knelt on the bathroom floor. He knew it was little comfort at the moment, but it was all he could do.

Jordan's entire body convulsed as the contents of her stomach emptied. After what seemed like an eternity, she was able to collapse on the floor, too tired to move. "You'll feel better in the morning," Dean murmured soothingly as he carried her back to bed. "Not much, probably, until you get some coffee and a lot of rest… but still some better."

"Love you, De…" Jordan said quietly before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

"Izzwe there yet, Sammeh?" Lyn asked in a strange sort of sing-song voice. She had long ago gotten bored with her cell phone and was currently drumming out a random tune on the back of the seat in front of her. "Youza been sayin' we'd be there soon for aaaaaages…"

"Yes, Lyn, we're here," Sam said as he got out of the car, shoved the keys in his pocket, and opened Lyn's door. "Need help?"

For a minute, Lyn was highly confused by the fact that the seatbelt buckle release button was on the wrong side, but once she figured that out, she jumped out of the car, nearly tripped over Sam, and caught herself on the side of the car, which she then collapsed against, laughing insanely.

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Lyn? Let's get back to our room, okay? You need your rest."

"Rest, shmest," Lyn said, still choking back a laugh every now and again. "You needsta gimme my keys back, a'cause you ain't a-drivin' my car ag'in, ever. Nob'dy drives mah car bu' me, dadburnit… C'rse J'rd'n ta a week've hangover hell fer a-makin' me go ennywheres…"

Sam pulled the keys out of his pocket and handed them to Lyn. Sam finally just picked Lyn up in his arms and carried her into the motel, putting her down in front of the door to their room. He unlocked the door and picked her up again, kicking the door shut behind him and setting her down on the bed. (They have separate rooms.)

"'Ey, Sammeh, wha' taim izzit?" Lyn wondered, blinking at him strangely. "I wud check misself, on'y mah phone wen' all dark an' stuff an' don' work no mores…"

"It's two thirty-seven." Sam took Lyn's purse and put it on the table, then went to the door and locked it.

"Two thir'y-se'en," Lyn repeated, pausing for a moment to look as if she were trying to comprehend something and then asked slowly, "An' how far izzat frum two for'y-ayt?"

"Eleven minutes," Sam answered, lying down in the king-sized bed next to Lyn.

"Huh," she muttered, gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling. "So tha's 'levin minnets ta five years an' five years an' ayt munths a'fore that."

She wrinkled her brow, as if pondering this, and then turned her head to look over at Sam and mused aloud, "Wud five years an' a diff'r'nt five years make ten years, or wuddit go da udder way an' be none?"

"I dunno, Lyn… That's an interesting question. I'll ask Dean tomorrow…" Sam muttered, falling asleep.

There was a silence, and then Lyn poked Sam hard in the side. "Sammeh… Sammeh!" she whispered, as if being quiet was supposed to make up for nearly impaling him on her fingernail. "Can's I borry yer phone, purty pleez?"

"Why, Lyn? Don't you have your own phone?" Sam asked, opening his eyes and catching Lyn's wrist, holding onto it to avoid further poking.

Lyn rolled her eyes rather exaggeratedly. "I toldja, I pusheded too many buttins and i' wen' all darkish an' don' work no mores…"

"Lyn… You need to go to sleep… And most people are already asleep, so nobody's gonna answer their phones," Sam mumbled, turning on his stomach and burying his face in his pillow.

"I don'ts wantsta _call_ nob'dy," Lyn complained in a mutter. "I wantsta kno' th' _taim_! I wantsta kno' when itz two for'y-ayt…"

"Fine… 's in my pocket," Sam mumbled almost inaudibly.

"Whi'sh pocket?" Lyn asked in a complaining-type of voice. "You'z no help, Sammeh…" Sighing as if undertaking some great effort, she rolled over toward him and tugged something out of his back pocket; it was rectangular, but made of leather. His wallet. "Oi, whyzu hidin' yer cell phone frumme, ennyways?" she grumbled before throwing the wallet randomly and finally locating the aforementioned cell phone in the other back pocket of his jeans. She opened it and the screen lit up, but the numbers were tiny and… kinda fuzzy…

Looking shiftily around for a second, Lyn poked him in the side again, not quite so hard this time. "Uh… Sammeh…? Wha' taim duzzis thin' say…?"

Sam sat up with a sigh, leaning against the headboard and looking at the phone. "Two forty-five."

Lyn's nose wrinkled as she thought. "So tha' leaf's… uhh… three minnuts, righ'?"

"Yup," Sam said, watching Lyn in amusement.

"Mm," she murmured, tapping her fingers together for a few seconds. Then she looked back over and asked, "Now wha' taim izzit?"

"Still two forty-five," Sam reported, grinning at her look of annoyance and impatience.

Lyn sighed heavily and crossed her arms, staring up at the ceiling. "'Ey, Sammeh…? Iz mah phone ded…?"

Sam took Lyn's cell phone and looked at it, pressing a few buttons. He laughed quietly to himself and replied, "No, Lyn. It's still alive – just out of battery."

"Oh." There was a short pause and then she asked, "So nob'dy can callit, th'n?"

"Nope, I'm afraid not."

Lyn nodded slowly, then abruptly fell back with an 'oof' onto her pillow. "Mkay. Gud."

"You tired?" Sam asked, looking down at Lyn, his eyes betraying the love he felt for her.

"A li'l," Lyn admitted. She paused and then asked, "Izzit two for'y-ayt yet?"

"Almost. Two forty-seven." Sam watched her carefully, waiting to see exactly what would happen at two forty-eight.

"Almos' on'y counts 'n horsshues 'n' han' gr'nades, tho'… an' I ain' got nunnuv eiver righ' now. Heh… pro'lly a gud thin'… def'nitly wuz a'fore…"

"Lyn, it's two forty-eight," Sam said, looking at his cell phone.

Lyn's jaw clenched for a second as she stared at the ceiling; then her eyes shifted to the side, to Sam. For the shortest of split seconds, there was some sort of dread in her gaze, as if she was afraid of what she might see. The expression cleared instantly, though, and then she smiled faintly at him for a moment before saying quietly, "I l'vyu, Sammeh."

Sam smiled back at her. "I love you, too, Lyn." He brought his hand down to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You feeling okay? Want me to get you some Advil?"

"Yez, pleass," Lyn answered, nodding and looking perfectly normal – well, as normal as she could be when she was drunk – again. "Two uv 'em. 'N you shud call Dean 'n' make shore he givez J'rd'n Adv'l, too, a'cuz she'll wake up sicker'n a dawg 'f she duzz'n't…"

Sam grabbed his duffel off the table and walked back to the bed. He pulled a water bottle and a bottle of Advil out of it and shook two pills into his palm, then handed the pills and the water to Lyn. "I'll call him now."

Her gaze followed him around the room almost suspiciously, but she quickly took the water bottle and Advil when he gave them to her. "Than's," she said with a faint smile. "An' iffe c'mplains, tellim iffe don' givver none, she'll feel horr'bul in th' mornin' an' then she'll kick 'im later, mkay?"

"Okay, I'll make sure to tell him that," Sam said with a smile as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket again and dialed Dean's number.

After two rings, Dean picked up the phone, hissing in a low whisper, "This had better be important, Sammy, Jordan's finally feeling good enough to sleep and you about woke her up."

Sam sighed and huffed. "She's already asleep!? I was calling to get you to give her some ibuprofen. Lyn says… in her own words, minus the drunken slurring, 'if he doesn't give her any, she'll feel horrible in the morning, and then she'll kick him later.'"

You could almost hear the smirk in Dean's voice as he asked, "Who'll kick me, Jordan or Lyn?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Jordan, Dean… Jordan will kick you. Seems like something she would do, and I trust Lyn on this, regardless of level of intoxication. Wake her up and give her Advil."

"She'll kick me for waking her up, too," Dean grumbled.

"She'll thank you later," Sam replied. "How's she doing, by the way?"

"Before or after puking her guts out and almost passing out on the bathroom floor? … Hey, that sounds about like you with a hangover, Sammy."

"Shut up, jerk… Just give her the pills and let her go back to sleep," Sam said, boring holes into the wall with his eyes.

"All right, fine, bitch. But you're right, anyway; she handles it much more like a man than you do."

Sam just rolled his eyes. "You're an asshat, Dean…" he said and then hung up.

He turned back to Lyn, and smirked when he realized that she was already sound asleep. He walked over, moved her so that she was lying on her side, and covered her with blankets before stripping down to just boxers and a worn t-shirt. He then got into bed next to her and wrapped an arm around her waist protectively before letting sleep overtake him.

* * *

Dean smirked and shoved his phone back in his pocket before looking over at Jordan and sighing. Yeah, this wasn't going to be fun. After grabbing a bottle of water and spending a good couple of minutes digging for Advil in his duffel bag, he got a couple of those, too, and then sat down on the bed next to Jordan again.

"Hey," he said in a low voice as he shook her shoulder gently. "Wake up for a second, Jordan."

Jordan groaned and wrinkled her brow, wincing at the sudden noise and movement that made her head throb painfully. "G' 'way," she mumbled into the blankets surrounding her.

"I'm sorry," Dean apologized, but continued tugging on her shoulder, anyway. "Come on, get up. Just for a minute. Lyn's making me get you up and give you Advil."

"Imma… keek you," Jordan ground out as she turned on her back and sat up, looking out through half-lidded eyes at Dean.

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I told Sam that, but he wouldn't listen. But you just have to wake up for a second and take these pills, and then you can go right back to sleep, okay?"

"M'kay… Remind me to kick Sammeh later," she mumbled as she took the water and pills from him. "Bottoms up," she almost whispered before throwing the pills back and washing them down with a huge gulp of water.

"Will do," Dean said, grinning. "I'll even hold him for you, if you want. But how are you feeling?"

"Be'n bet'r. 'Speshly since someone d'cided ta wake me up… Ya owe me now…" Jordan then used all her strength to pull Dean down next to her and wrap her arms around him and rest her head on his chest. "This's yur pun'shm'nt mist'r…"

Dean smirked. "Ah, well. I'll just have to live with it, then, I guess. But you do need to rest, you know."

"Gladly…" She closed her eyes again and, in what seemed like seconds, he was asleep again, her arms still around Dean, her head resting in the crook of his neck. He pulled her a little closer and breathed in the scent of her hair; at least that still smelled pretty much normal. Either way, he was glad to still have her with him. It had only been a month, though; he still had time to figure something out.


End file.
